Navigating Now
by nik47
Summary: Just because the walls are down doesn't mean there's not rubble to clear away. Beckett works through the decisions made in 'Always' and their repercussions - both good and bad - Castle at her side. Inspired by The Temper Trap's 'Sweet Disposition'. A hopefully balanced mix of seriousness and fluff. Chapter 6 now up: Kate and Castle let loose in a battle of emotions and firearms...
1. Chapter 1

**I've been tangling with this one for awhile, and although I'm not entirely satisfied, I decided to just post it before my head exploded. This story will be a series of linked one-shots (probably 4 or 5 in total), each chapter inspired by lyrics from The Temper Trap's 'Sweet Disposition'. Many thanks to Deb for the inspiration on this! :)**

* * *

_Sweet disposition,  
Never too soon.  
Oh reckless abandon,  
Like no one's watching you…_

* * *

The first time he caught her singing in the shower, she wanted to swirl down the drain.

It's not that she was embarrassed per se, or self-conscious, because she was actually a pretty good singer. And when she'd shown up at his door nearly two weeks ago, she'd told him she was ready and she'd meant it. Ready to move forward, ready to be together, ready to share everything. And, logically speaking, she supposed that 'sharing everything' meant sharing her love of singing as well. Made sense.

But sense aside, this was kind of a Fortress of Solitude thing, an intensely private aspect of her personality. Of her life. And it wasn't something she shared. With anyone. _Ever_. Not since her mom.

It was Johanna Beckett who had encouraged this side of her, nurtured it, supported it, delighted in every expression of it. And after she had died, Kate's passion for singing had nearly been snuffed out completely, yet one more blameless victim to a sharp knife in a nondescript alley. But she'd managed to keep it burning, deep down, and over the years, it had become one of the few lights left in her life, a living reminder of – and a monument to – her mother.

Which is why she'd never considered revealing it to anyone else, hadn't even allow herself to contemplate the idea.

And she'd sure as hell never been _caught_ before, basking under deliciously hot jets of pounding water as she soulfully crooned out the lyrics to her favorite Temper Trap song, her fingers rhythmically keeping time with the words as they worked shampoo through her thick, chestnut locks.

She was in _his_ loft, in _his_ bathroom, in _his_ shower, and she'd _known_ he was out there, known it was highly probable – even likely – that he'd actually be joining her soon. And yet, she'd been singing. And she'd been singing for awhile. And she'd started singing unconsciously, not even cognizant of the fact that she was releasing herself to a pleasure which she normally didn't allow, at least not outside the security of her own home. She'd been open, unguarded, and completely relaxed, as if she were safely ensconced within her own special bastion of peace and seclusion. Her fortress.

And then he'd walked in, utterly shattering that illusion, setting eyes and ears on her in a way which she'd never permitted _anyone_ to before.

And this was the moment when the overwhelming panic stemming from that realization should set in. Because it didn't matter that it was Castle, it didn't matter _who_ it was. Her privacy had been invaded. Her perimeter had been compromised. Her fortifications had been breached. It was a matter of instinct, pure and simple. Instantaneous action was demanded, a lightning-quick attack which would most likely be followed by a hasty retreat.

But the crazy thing was, as her voice broke off and their gazes locked, it didn't feel like she needed to attack. Or retreat. And after that first startled second, she realized it didn't even feel like panic. It felt…okay. He had seen her, and heard her, and he was standing right there, and she didn't feel at all exposed, or unprotected, or vulnerable. She felt… She felt fine. She felt _free._

A smile broke across her lips at the revelation.

"Hey," she greeted, her casual tone belying the intensity of the moment as her eyes held his through the steam-shrouded glass.

"Hey," he returned, his frozen surprise collapsing around a lop-sided grin. He'd been genuinely shocked at the sound of her exquisite voice through the closed door of the bathroom, and he'd wavered on whether or not to enter. And when he'd at last decided to step inside, the utterly stunned look upon her face had nearly convinced him he'd made the wrong decision. But then he'd recognized the joyous calm which flooded her features, an echo of their first night together, and of all the days and nights since then. He _wasn't _intruding. He was welcome here. He was wanted.

He leaned a hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his t-shirt-clad chest, eyes never leaving hers. "I didn't know you could sing like that."

Her smile grew, exposing teeth as her lips parted. "Yeah." She turned her shoulders into the hot spray of water, closing her eyes and tipping her head back to let the rich lather she'd created rinse away, fingers lacing through her hair to massage her scalp, soap streams sluicing down her skin. "Ever since I was little." She wavered for the barest fraction of a second, so brief he might have missed it. "It was a family thing. My mom would play the piano and we'd sing together."

His eyes crinkled. "How 'bout your dad?"

She laughed, a spontaneous peal of delight straight from her chest. "God no! He's hopeless. Completely non-musical." She straightened up and turned, wringing her hair with one hand and shutting off the water with the other. She wiped away a few stubbornly clinging drops from her face before opening her eyes again, seeking his warm gaze. "Mom actually _forbade_ him from singing. And he was a bit miffed about that." She grinned at the memory as she swung open the shower door. "But he was always there with us, listening."

He pushed off from the counter, grabbing her towel from its place beside his, whipping it open with a flourish and holding it up invitingly as she stepped out onto the bathmat. "Lucky guy."

She graced him with a heart-stopping smile then pivoted, backing into solid warmth as he enfolded her in a wave of dark blue material and strong, steady arms. "Mm-hmm," she murmured, eyes drifting closed as she leaned back into his all-encompassing embrace.

She felt his nose run lazily along the slick line of her neck as his breath glided down her wet skin, warm and liquid. His slow lips found the hollow behind her ear, and she tipped her head to the side, pulling a masculine and contented hum of approval from deep within his throat at the access she was granting.

His mouth parted languidly, tongue sliding out and tasting her skin, circling up around the shell of her ear before drifting down to the lobe. His teeth nipped her there lightly, the pressure just enough to cause a quiet inhalation on her part, not quite a gasp, but the tantalizing promise of one. She felt his smile against her skin as his arms tightened their grip on her body, pulling her closer, pressing her entire, towel-wrapped length against his.

"Sing something else," he breathed, a barely-there whisper hot and low in her ear. "For me." She bit her lip at both his words and the sensations they created, her back arching slightly against his chest, eyes still closed.

Could she really do this? Sing to him? She knew it shouldn't even be a question, not after he'd already heard her a moment ago anyway, and certainly not after all the things they'd shared with each other in the last two weeks. She felt her skin flush at the memories. Yeah, they'd shared quite a lot…

But this was different. This…it was intimate in a way that she'd never allowed herself to be intimate before. Not just physically or emotionally, but soulfully. She'd never given this part of herself into the care of another, wasn't even sure she wanted to. Her heart stilled at that last thought, clenching painfully in her chest.

That wasn't true. That wasn't true at all. It was just her fears, scrambling for justification.

The truth was she _did_ want to share this. She wanted to share everything. Was she afraid? Hell yes. But she believed in him, in _them_. And it might not always be easy – in fact, she knew at times it would be really damned difficult – but she had made her decision, and she was in this, fully, completely, no going back.

And really, this moment with him, this wasn't difficult at all. This felt easy. No, more than that. It felt _right_, right in a way she hadn't experienced in nearly fourteen years. She didn't _want_ to share this with him. She _yearned_ to share it.

The questioning nudge of his nose behind her ear brought her back suddenly, as if he'd sensed she was far away and hoped she would return to him. It was tender, and simple, and full of every promise, and it sent a searing bolt of desire careening down her spine. Oh, she yearned all right.

"Any requests?" she managed to ask, voice catching slightly at the hidden depth and weight of those two simple words.

His lips returned to her neck and traced a meandering path down her skin, skating across the water droplets still beaded there, his tongue collecting them as it pulled along behind. Her throat tightened as he reached the curve of her shoulder, grazing his teeth along the outline of her collarbone, and then she realized his mouth wasn't the only thing on the move. One of his warm hands slipped through the folds of the towel to find the bare skin of her stomach, pausing for a brief moment before sliding...everywhere.

This time she did gasp, the casual, knowing way in which he was exploring her just too much _not _to respond to.

"Surprise me," he invited, even as his tongue found her pulse point and his lips descended, sucking gently.

Okay, yeah, she was definitely doing this. Song after song flashed through her mind, a new one sparking at his every touch, lyrics all ajumble. There were so many beautiful words to share, so many emotions to express. How could she ever hope to give voice to all she felt for this man through a single song? How could just one suffice, when they all made such overwhelming sense? Made sense thanks to him.

And actually, when she thought about it like that, _any_ song would do. Her lips tugged down at the corners, pulling into a slight frown. Which meant none of them would. Okay then, maybe she should look at this from an entirely different angle. From _their _angle.

Surprise him. Right. Well, he'd asked for it.

She cleared her throat as much as she was able and drew a long, steady breath, which was pretty impressive, given what his fingers were up to. Her voice gathered itself within her chest, and then she set it free.

"_Move that ass, move that ass, get on the floor, get on the floor…_"

His reaction was instantaneous, a startled guffaw which rippled from deep within his sternum and exploded past his lips. She couldn't quite check a grin herself as she felt the force of his laugh whoosh past her shoulder and skirl over her clavicle, the beautiful sound of it ringing in her ears. Oh yeah. Good choice. She couldn't continue, however, because both of his arms were suddenly back at her waist, squeezing hard enough that she lost most of the air from her lungs.

"_Oof_…Castle! I can't sing while you're performing the Heimlich!"

She felt him chuckle again, lower and deeper than before, the vibration resonating through the towel and into the muscles of her back. "God, Kate. Of all the songs… You just never cease to amaze, do you?"

She heard the playful lilt in his voice, and underneath it, the love. She turned towards him, swiveling within the frame of his arms, seeking the accompanying look in his eyes. And sure enough, it was there, reflecting out from his blue depths, making her feel like she'd just been declared the winner of _everything_, simply by being exactly who she was.

"Complaining?" she asked teasingly, arching her brow and circling the tip of his nose with her own.

He nudged her nose back then touched his forehead to hers. "Never."

She smiled then closed the distance between them and kissed him lightly, her eyes remaining open, keeping contact with his. She hadn't told him in words yet exactly how much she loved him, but she tried to tell him now with her gaze, willing him to understand. Soon. She would say it soon.

He pulled away slightly and the warmth in his eyes made her believe she'd succeeded. He grinned then slackened his arms exaggeratedly. "Okay, so I'm no longer depriving you of oxygen. Or," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows, "attempting to dislodge food from your esophagus." He raised his right hand and waved it about in a grandiose manner, his left remaining lightly anchored at the small of her back. "So, fair lady, if you'd be so kind as to continue with your exceedingly elegant melody...?"

His theatrical performance earned him a trademark Beckett scowl, brows knitted, eyes glaring, lips pursed. But there was no heat behind it, no actual annoyance, and his adorably quirked mouth and twinkling blue eyes told her he knew it. Still, she managed to hold the look until he finally leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her cheek, his voice following, low and sincere. "Please?"

She sighed deeply and gave it one more second, waiting until his eyes were again focused on hers before dropping the feigned displeasure. She tilted her head and picked up with the first verse, tone low and sultry, her stare never leaving his.

"_Sexy as hell as I come through the door…_"

His eyes flung dark blue sparks at the words, his hands suddenly heavy and possessive, everywhere at once. She thrummed against him, muscles quivering, the tempo of the song wavering slightly before she was able to regain her momentum.

_"Twelve gauge shotgun, get on the floor…"_

Given their current situation, she couldn't help smiling slightly at the obvious pun, but when he ground his hips against hers, that smile faded into oblivion as her lips dropped open and her eyes fluttered shut. This was just too hot to be humorous.

"_Jump on the counter, let off a round…_"

And suddenly she was spinning as he whirled them both about, voice cut off at the unexpected swiftness of it. The movement stopped abruptly and she found herself trapped against the counter, his body pressed deliciously against every inch of hers. Her mouth went dry at the sudden change in position, at the promise of _more_ which it created, and the hungry desire in his eyes didn't really help with that. She licked her lips slowly, watching him watch her, the reaction she was eliciting from him palpable in every twitch of his muscles.

"This song is _surprisingly_ inspirational," he growled as his gaze tore from hers, eyes tripping momentarily over her tongue before continuing to rove across every inch of skin which wasn't hidden by her towel. He leaned in and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the underside of her jaw as his fingers ghosted up her covered sides, creating a trail of infuriatingly light pressure against her skin, barely detectable through the thick, blue fabric. "So don't stop."

Her breath caught at the demand lacing his voice, at the double entendre of his words, and she suddenly realized that he knew _exactly_ what was happening here, knew exactly what this whole singing thing was about. Progression. Not just for her, but for them. _Don't stop_.

She nosed her way to his ear, tasting him there before whispering her response. "I won't if you won't."

"Deal."

And suddenly the towel was gone, and she was _on_ the counter, and he was in _everything_ – her space and her senses and her soul.

And she sang.

* * *

**This chapter is a bit of shout-out to the last scene of 3x14, 'Lucky Stiff', when Beckett's singing along with her guitar before Castle shows up. It's a tantalizingly brief character moment that has yet to be elaborated on, and it's always stuck in my mind. Anyway, I really struggled with this, and it doesn't flow quite as smoothly as I'd like it to, but I hope it wasn't too painful to read. The idea for this fic is to delve into some of the fallout from 'Always', both good and bad, and I do plan to tackle some of the larger, angstier issues at play, although this first chapter turned out fairly fluffy. But it's not my fault. I blame Castle and Beckett. They just can't keep their hands off each other...! ;)**

**Thanks for reading, guys! And if you've got a second to review, your thoughts and suggestions are always very much appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter has a_ bit_ of purpose, but in the end, it pretty much just devolves to fluff. Dang it. I swear, I've got _serious_ stuff I want to address with this fic! Life-changing, character-defining STUFF! This post-finale haze of happiness has to dissipate sometime, doesn't it? _Doesn't it?_ Crap. I'm doomed...**

* * *

_A moment, a love, a dream, a laugh…_

* * *

"Come do de Hampdons dish weegend."

She lowered her book at the sound of his voice and glanced towards the bathroom door. He was propped against the frame, hand towel draped across one shoulder, toothbrush tucked inside his cheek, damp hair sticking up slightly and body clad in nothing but boxers. She couldn't help grinning. He really was adorable.

He raised his eyebrows and continued to scrub away at his teeth. "Well?" he asked around a mouthful of toothpaste. "Whuddo oo shay?"

That last word was spoken a bit too forcefully, and she laughed as his head whipped back, hand darting out in a vain attempt to catch a thick drop of white as it spilled from his lips and hit his bare chest with a soft splat. "I say go spit before you end up needing to take another shower."

He started to nod, but thought better of it as the rest of the liquid in his mouth came dangerously close to overflowing. She watched as he retreated hastily into the bathroom with his chin tipped up and his palm held ready beneath it, her gaze admiring the muscular lines of his back as he went. She tilted her head and her eyes traveled south. His ass wasn't bad either.

She grinned again, but the mirth faded slowly, melting into an unfocused gaze, a knitted brow, and the beginnings of a frown. Her teeth launched an unconscious assault on her bottom lip as she thought back to his words.

His invitation was far from unexpected. Truth be told, she was surprised he'd waited this long, what with Memorial Day less than a week away. She still remembered the first time he'd told her about this particular Castle tradition, couldn't forget it if she wanted to. But the sweet memory of him regaling her with tales of bonfires, marshmallows, and ghost stories before inviting her along for the fun was harshly tempered by the unbelievably painful recollection of him walking away from her for the summer, Gina securely in tow.

Yeah,_ that_ mental image wasn't helping at all. She shook off the pain of the past as best she could, focusing on the present. Focusing on the extremely important conversation they were about to have. Because bonfires, marshmallows, and ghost stories weren't the only things she recalled from that first Memorial Day discussion with him.

The sound of running water ended abruptly, and then he was back, wiping his mouth on the hand towel still adorning his shoulder, grinning wide enough to crack an egg. He plopped down stomach-first on the bed beside her, the weight of his body impacting the mattress and bouncing her slightly as well.

"So?" he asked expectantly, whipping the towel off his shoulder and sending it flying in the general direction of the now-dark bathroom. "Will you come?" She turned towards him, her heart clenching a bit at the happy, hopeful expression plastered across his face. This was going to suck.

"Castle…"

She hesitated as the sparkle in his eyes dimmed, absolutely hating that she couldn't just give him the answer he so obviously wanted. But she'd already decided on this, so she forced herself to continue.

"No. I can't." Disappointment flooded his features, although he tried to hide it with a quick duck of his head. "But it's not why you think," she added. His eyes darted back to hers, brow furrowed questioningly.

She sighed. She really needed to do this right. It was so important that he realized this wasn't about her pulling away from him, or running from _them_. Because even though he hadn't said anything, she could still sense the worry he'd harbored since that night she'd shown up at his door and they'd started all of this. She'd caught his furtive looks of nervousness over the past two weeks, felt the occasionally anxious embrace of his arms late at night, perceived the hidden apprehension every time they parted ways, even if it was only for an hour or so, as if he truly believed she might not come back to him.

And it was past time to put an end to all of that. Because she wasn't going anywhere.

Her left hand tossed the long-forgotten book onto the nightstand beside her as her right hand reached across to find his. She tangled their fingers together and scooted herself down the bed slightly, twisting around onto her side, the weight of her upper body now propped on her right elbow. Her eyes never left his, maintaining that established point of contact as the rest of her created new ones, her left forearm folding in gently against his ribs, her knees tucking into the side of his thigh, and her toes teasing lightly against the muscles of his calves. The more physical connections they had during this talk, the better.

"Do you remember the first time you told me about Memorial Day in the Hamptons?" she asked, starting in slowly.

"Yeah, of course I do." She watched as his mind unpacked the memory. "It was two years ago, on our last case together, before the summer. I told you all about the house, and the beach, and the stuff we do out there. And," a small smile fought its way back across his lips, "I believe we discussed skinny dipping." Her own lips quirked at that and her fingers tightened briefly around his.

He responded to her touch with an answering squeeze, but all traces of humor left his voice as he continued. "And then when I invited you to come along, you said no."

She swallowed thickly. There was a part of her that wanted to reveal the whole truth of that entire fiasco right now: the internal struggle she'd had with her own emotions, the resulting break-up with Tom, and, of course, her disastrous attempt to finally tell Castle how she felt about him. But as much as she wanted to get into it all, now just wasn't the time. She needed to stay on point.

"'We.'" He shot her a confused look, and she elaborated. "You said, 'the stuff _we _do out there.'"

"Yeah, Alexis and I. The stuff we usually do for Memorial Day."

She raised an eyebrow and bit the corner of her lip, giving him a second to catch up. And she recognized the exact moment he did, his entire face brightening visibly and a brief laugh escaping his mouth. He tugged their joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her skin. "Is that what this is about? You don't want to intrude on my time with Alexis? Kate, that's unbelievably sweet, but you don't have to worry. I already talked this over with her, and she's fine with it, really."

She was shaking her head before the last words even left his mouth. "No, Castle. I mean, yes, this is about Alexis. And yes, this is about not intruding on your time together. But even if you did talk to her about it, I still can't come."

"But…why?" There was no frustration in his voice – which she was grateful for – just genuine confusion.

"Castle, when you told me about your family tradition for Memorial Day two years ago, it was because Alexis _wasn't_ able to go, remember?"

"Yeah..."

"And you were _crushed_. You were _so_ disappointed, because it was something the two of you had always done together, ever since she was little."

He nodded. "Every year since she was five."

"Right." She nudged his side with her elbow and allowed a small smile to slip across her face. "In fact, the only reason you invited me along in the first place was because she couldn't go, and _you_ couldn't stand the idea of being up there all alone."

"Kate," he chided, answering her smile with one of his own. "Please tell me you know that that wasn't the _only_ reason."

She dipped her chin in acknowledgement, eyes dropping to their linked hands as her thumb stroked his lightly. "The point is, two years ago, you and Alexis didn't have your traditional Memorial Day weekend together, right?"

Her gaze returned to his and she caught the slight tightening of his eyes, saw the tension seep into his features. He had figured out where this was going. "Right…"

"And last year?" she asked softly.

The breath left his lungs with a whoosh, the absolute sorrow behind his heavy sigh breaking her heart. "You got shot."

This time she was the one who pulled their hands in for a kiss, her eyelids fluttering closed as she dropped her mouth against his warm skin. "Yeah. I did." She opened her eyes and slid her cheek to rest against the back of his hand before prodding him gently for an answer. "And where were you on Memorial Day?"

His eyes dropped to the pillow in front of him. "I was at the precinct."

She nodded, tipping her head in a vain attempt to recapture his gaze. "Every day. You were there every day. For_ months_, Castle."

She waited for a moment, hoping he'd say something, but he remained silent. "I've never thanked you for that," she murmured softly, her own eyes retreating down to the bed.

She watched the twist of his hips as he propped himself up on his left side, his fingers releasing hers to cup her cheek. She covered his hand with her own, holding it to her skin as she looked up. He was staring at her, the intensity in his blue eyes startling. "You don't _ever _have to thank me for that, Kate," he rasped, voice thick with emotion. "I _had_ to be there. I had to do _something_. For me. For my own sanity. I'm not even entirely sure it was about you."

She couldn't stop the wry curl of her lips. "I appreciate the attempt to let me off the hook, Castle, but we both know that's not true. The truth is, if I hadn't pushed you away at the hospital, hadn't left you hanging in silence all summer, then you wouldn't have buried yourself in the investigation like you did. And maybe you'd have even made it to the Hamptons with Alexis."

"I wouldn't have," he confessed, his voice laced with both certainty and a hint of guilt. "I wouldn't have been able to tear myself away, and definitely not to the Hamptons. I just…I needed to be near you, even if I couldn't be _with_ you." His eyes slipped away from hers briefly, but they quickly returned, eyebrows wiggling up and down, attempting to lighten the mood. "I sort of loved you, you know."

"Which is kind of my point," she insisted, refusing to be sidetracked. "It was _my_ fault you missed Memorial Day with Alexis last year."

"No, it was _Maddox's_ fault," he stated firmly as his hand dropped from her cheek, tone leaving no room for discussion.

"Okay, you're right," she agreed, her hand following and once again twining with his on the pillow. "It _was_ Maddox's fault." She raised her eyebrows. "And this year?"

"This year, _no one_ is missing Memorial Day," he insisted. "Including you."

She shook her head stubbornly. "It's a family tradition, Castle. A _family_ tradition. One you haven't been able to enjoy for the past two years, and one that's even more important _this_ year, with Alexis moving out and starting Columbia in the fall."

She jerked her left hand from the bed and covered his lips, stifling the protest he'd been about to let loose. "_And_," she continued, leveling a warning scowl at him and leaving her fingers securely anchored against his lips, "as much as I appreciate the invitation – and as happy as I am to hear that Alexis was okay with my tagging along – I just can't. It wouldn't be fair, to either of you. At least not this year." She paused, gauging the expression on his face. "I hope you can understand that."

She waited another second then risked the removal of her hand from his mouth. He frowned at her, huffing slightly. "Have I ever told you how maddeningly frustrating you are?"

She laughed, leaning in to give him a kiss. "Yeah, you have. But you can tell me again if you think it might help."

His mouth glided to her ear. "You…are…maddeningly…_frustrating._" She felt the press of his lips against her jaw before his arms pulled her in tight against his body.

"I'm going to miss you, too, Castle," she assured him with a whisper, hugging him back. "A lot."

"That's good to know." He mumbled into her hair. "_Really_ good to know."

And suddenly, the tension she'd sensed in him since she'd first turned down his offer disappeared, released in the blink of an eye, his body completely calm against hers. And she relaxed as well, relieved at the acceptance she read in his words, grateful that he'd understood. He wasn't panicked at the idea of their separation, wasn't worried that she was pulling away. He trusted her. She grinned into his neck. He trusted her.

"But you do realize," he mused after a moment, freeing her just enough to catch her gaze, "that someday you're actually gonna run out of excuses _not_ to spend a weekend in a swimsuit with me."

She smirked, rolling her eyes. "Okay, one: you've already _seen_ me in a swimsuit. And two: I've just spent the majority of the past fifteen days completely _naked_ with you. I think that trumps a bikini."

"It's not the same," he maintained, his right hand settling onto her hip and pushing her back against the bed.

"Why not?" she challenged, her body following his lead as he maneuvered himself above her.

"One:" he began, mimicking her tone from before, "I only got to see you in that swimsuit in L.A. for like ten minutes. _And_," he added, his voice dropping and his eyes darkening, "I wasn't allowed to _touch_ you while you were wearing it."

Despite her best efforts, his words – along with the enticing picture they painted – sent her pulse racing, and the slow glide of his fingers as they eased over her hip and disappeared up the back of her tank top didn't help any. "And two?" she managed to ask around the sudden thickness in her throat, arching slightly and allowing his hand to slide further beneath her body.

"And two:" he answered leisurely as his fingers climbed the ladder of her spine and his mouth dropped to her shoulder, "although you are _breathtakingly_ stunning in not a stitch.…" His legs nudged hers apart, creating room for his other hand, which ghosted up the inside of her thigh, deft fingers slipping under the edge of her shorts and teasing sensitive skin. "There are just _so_ many fantasies that I have of you in a swimsuit which still need to be properly…" He paused, tongue curling along her neck, lips landing at her ear. "…_explored_."

She gasped and bit into his shoulder, eyes slamming shut as his wandering fingers embarked on some fairly thorough explorations of their own. Rocking her hips against him, she used the momentum to flip them both, coming to a halt on top of his chest, knees tucked in securely on either side of his body. Her mouth skated up the line of his jaw, lips fighting a grin.

"Fantasies, huh?" She pitched her voice lower, words scorched a trail across his skin as she moved. "And in these fantasies of yours, I'm in a swimsuit? That's how you _want_ me, Castle?"

She felt the catch in his breath, the tightening of his muscles, the increased pressure from both of his hands, one at her back and the other still trapped between her thighs. He didn't even bother to respond, the low growl in his chest and the sudden attack of his teeth at her neck answer enough.

"Well then," she sighed, pulling away just enough to level him with a sad gaze. "So much for skinny dipping."

* * *

**If you're not happy with the flow or the dialogue of that ending, feel free to PM me for a different one. I think I wrote about...wait, let me check...six versions. _Egads!_ But I think the one above is the best. The idea for this chapter came from all of the absolutely wonderful 'going to the Hamptons for Memorial Day' fics floating around out there. But, although I truly love reading them, the idea of Kate tagging along for that particular holiday always bothered me for some reason. How about you, fellow fans? What's your take? **

**The next chapter of this bad boy should include either Alexis or Esposito. Probably Alexis. So maybe her presence can infuse a bit more plot and prevent Beckett and Castle from going at it like bunnies. Then again, maybe not. As always, guys, thanks a ton for reading! Your review would make my day, so don't be shy! The blue button beckons...! :D  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**For those of you who actually read my inane author's note at the end of chapter 2, it's time for me to come clean: I'm _such_ a liar. The following piece contains neither Alexis NOR Esposito. _But_, I refuse to feel guilty. After all, no one ever said anything about my being trustworthy! The idea for this next one came from a question I received after posting the last chapter: if Beckett doesn't go to the Hamptons with Castle for Memorial Day, then what the heck _does_ she do? This is my answer.**

* * *

_A kiss, a cry, our rights, our wrongs…_

* * *

The deep growl of the Harley cut off smoothly as she killed the engine, hands rising to tug off her helmet and free her hair. She knew she was running a bit late, but she remained seated for just a moment longer, unzipping her leather jacket and taking in the deceptively peaceful view of the cabin, nestled snug amidst the sun-dappled greenery of towering oaks and maples.

She hadn't been out here since last summer.

Her heart jerked at the thought, pulsing erratically against her ribcage. She instinctively pressed a palm to her chest, fingers dipping beneath the edge of her jacket and tracing a pattern over the fabric which concealed her scar. She flinched as the sound of a sniper rifle pierced her mind, its ghostly report scraping raw along her nerves and slicing jagged through her senses.

She _hated_ this, hated that the sight of her dad's place could evoke such horrific memories of past events. The treasured feeling of homecoming was gone completely, the safety and comfort she'd once experienced here now twisted and tainted and warped beyond recognition. She'd secluded herself in this cabin for months after the shooting, pulling away from everything and everyone familiar, wrapping herself in a blanket of total isolation. She'd been healing, yes. Without. But she'd been shattering within.

The walls of the house, at first protective and reassuring, had slowly become her prison, the silence and remoteness an inexorable breeding ground for her fears, doubts, and uncertainties. She'd haunted the rooms, her mind wracked with indecision and dread at the unanswerable questions and merciless recollections which assaulted her.

Shock was the entirety of her existence, absolute and inescapable, annihilating her from the inside out. Her mother's case, Montgomery's lies, his betrayal, his death, her hopelessness, the funeral, and then nothing, nothing but the searing explosion of everything, her world reduced to a tunnel of pain, broken only randomly by minute flashes of razor-sharp perception tinged in harsh and violent hues.

The memories were overwhelming, gut-wrenching, and the nightmares enveloped her day and night without surcease, flooding her senses with indescribable panic. The silhouette of the unknown sniper, returning to hunt her down and finish the job, Lockwood's face, twisted and silent, his secrets unreachable behind death-glazed eyes, and the ominous shadow of 'The Dragon', mastermind of her mother's murder, his identity cloaked, indecipherable, the man responsible for all of it, everything that had sent her life careening off course.

And Castle. Always, always, there was Castle. He was a maelstrom in her mind, beautiful and confusing and terrifying and _real_.

She'd told him that she just needed a little time, and she'd genuinely believed that to be the case, believed that she could work through this on her own, find her way back to him once she was ready. But she'd _had_ time, and it wasn't helping, wasn't accomplishing anything besides the plunge of her mind into an even deeper, more sinister abyss. She was losing ground day by day, drowning in the shadows, both past and present. Her wounds were mending, but her mind was fragmenting. And she didn't have a clue how to stop it.

In the end, it was her father who saved her.

He'd recognized the signs of the spiral she was in, recognized it because he'd once been consumed by darkness himself. And he'd been the one to lead her out of it, pushing past the barriers of her denial and forcing her to face the reality of the trauma she was experiencing. She still remembered the day he'd stood her in front of the entryway mirror, imploring her to really _look _at what she was becoming, to see where this path of self-devastation was taking her. The sight of herself had been shocking, the division within blatantly evident. Body once again whole, but soul utterly asunder. The realization had scared the hell out of her, finally sparking the catalyst for her recovery.

It had taken another month after that – one agonizing, excruciating month – before she'd managed to look into that mirror again and truly recognize herself in its reflection: still damaged but no longer broken. She had survived the crucible, had rebuilt and repaired and restored herself, and she was ready, ready to move past mere survival and once more embrace _living_. And that was the day she'd left.

And now she was back.

She took a calming breath, willing the frenzied stutter of her heart to dissipate, leveling back into a steady, rhythmic beat. Coming out here was a good thing, she reminded herself. A really good thing. She should have done it months ago. The festering stigma she'd attached to this place gave it power over her, allowing it to eat away at the progress she was trying to make in her life.

And her abhorrence of the cabin itself was completely unfair, especially to her dad. He'd never questioned why she refused to visit him up here this past year, why she'd always pressed him to make the trip into the city instead. They simply hadn't discussed it, although she was certain he knew what was actually going on. But he hadn't pushed, had understood her reticence to return and accepted it. And she was unbelievably grateful for that.

But now it was time, time to sort the wreckage in her mind, clearing away the debilitating debris of her past from the firm foundations of her future. She was ready to face this. More than ready.

"Katie!" Her father's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she smiled wide at the sight of him stepping through the old screen door and striding across the porch.

"Hey, Dad." She swung herself off the Softail, fishing out a purple tote bag from the bike's black leather riding satchel before stepping forward to meet him in a warm hug. "Happy Memorial Day," she breathed, smiling into his shoulder.

"Same to you, sweetheart." He gave her a final squeeze before releasing her. "You're right on time. The steaks should be finished in just a few minutes."

"And when you say 'finished', do you mean 'burnt to a crisp'?" she teased, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek as they headed for the house together. "Because last time was a travesty against steaks everywhere."

"I resent that," he huffed, yanking open the screen door and gesturing her inside. "They were perfectly edible, at least for those of us who don't need our steaks still mooing when we eat them."

She laughed as they walked down the hallway. "Edible? You discovered a new method for making beef jerky! _Bad_ beef jerky." She reached the entrance to the living room, tossing her helmet on the couch before continuing into the kitchen.

"A bit of toughness is good for the teeth," he maintained, emphasizing his words with a mock scowl and a pair of tongs he'd just picked up from the counter. "And you'll never convince me otherwise." She held up her hands in wordless surrender, her grin widening as he dropped the offended chef act and smiled back at her. "But don't worry, your steak will be pink and bloody, just the way you like it."

"Awesome." She shrugged the tote from her shoulder, dipping her hand inside and pulling out a large, plastic container, filled to the brim with a pale yellowish concoction. "And I brought the potato salad you love, from that deli on 7th Avenue."

"Oh, fantastic!" He eagerly appropriated the tub from her fingers, cracking the lid and inhaling blissfully as she shrugged out of her jacket and slung both it and her bag over one of the kitchen chairs. She rolled her eyes at his gleeful expression, shaking her head in amusement.

"Should I get you a spoon, or were you just planning to dive in nose-first?"

"No, no," he laughed, pushing the lid back into place. "I think I'll manage to wait another few minutes." He gestured to a big bowl of tossed salad on the counter behind her. "You can grab that, though, and take it out to the table. Everything else is already out there. I just have to dig the rolls and the green bean casserole out of the oven."

"'Kay." She snatched the carton of potato salad back from him with a smirk. "But I'm taking this along, too. Just in case."

"No trust," he lamented, turning towards the stove with a theatrical sigh. "No trust at all."

~ s ~ s ~

The day was bright and balmy, and the late afternoon sun slanted gently through the branches of the trees, curling contentedly into warm pools of random light across the yard. The mild breeze rustled the leaves above in a soft, continuous sigh, and the cheerful trill of the birds blended with the lazy hum of insects, creating a natural, ceaseless cadence which calmed the mind and washed clean the senses.

It had been too long since she'd been here. She'd forgotten how utterly peaceful it could be. She'd been so absorbed in the fear she felt, but this, she realized, this was the place she remembered, the _real_ place, before the gloom of last summer had besieged it. The comfort and warmth and feeling of home, it was all still right here. She'd just needed to come back and find it. She smiled at the thought.

The food hadn't changed either. Her previous ribbing not withstanding, Jim Beckett was an excellent cook, and dinner was delicious, the huge steaks tender and juicy, the baked potatoes steaming hot and dripping with butter, and the assorted salads and vegetables crisp and fresh, their varied flavors a perfect compliment to the rest of the meal. There were no beers, of course, but the homemade lemonade was worlds better anyway, sweet, tangy and wonderfully refreshing.

"You really outdid yourself, Dad," she praised around her last mouthful of sweet corn, straight from the cob. "This was amazing."

"Well it's a special occasion." He raised his glass in her direction. "Seeing you, Memorial Day, the start of a new summer…" Her eyes flew to his at his slight emphasis of the word 'new', but he just smiled slightly before continuing. "Not to mention the mysterious news you hinted at on the phone."

She bit the inside of her lip at his obvious invitation and nodded, eyes dropping to her own glass as she reached for it and took a sip, buying herself some time to master her sudden flood of anxiety. She really had _no_ idea what his reaction would be when she told him about the past three weeks of her life, especially because she'd waited so long to do so.

It's not that she hadn't wanted to share everything with him right away, because she _had_ wanted to, desperately. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it over the phone, found herself needing the intimacy of a face-to-face conversation, the physical comfort of his actual presence, not just his distant voice through a speaker. And that's why she'd called him on Wednesday and suggested this get-together. With Castle and Alexis away in the Hamptons, now was the perfect time to finally share everything: her resignation from the force, her new relationship, and, most importantly, her decision to step away from her mother's case.

Actually, she reminded herself, she should switch the order of those last two points. Because it was her relationship with Castle that was the most important thing now. Hands down. She just hoped that she could explain that to her dad in a way he would understand. She didn't want to disappoint him. She needed to make it clear that her letting go of the case and the pursuit of Johanna Beckett's killer did _not_ mean that she was letting go of her mom.

She took another sip of her lemonade, closing her eyes briefly against the sheer weight of it all, debating how best to start. Finally she decided to just dive in head-first.

"I resigned, Dad. I quit the force."

His face remained tranquil at her declaration, the slight tightening of the skin around his eyes the only discernable change, but she recognized his tell for what it was: concern. He studied her for a long moment and then leaned forward, sliding his hand across the table and resting it lightly over hers. "Tell me, Katie."

His gentle, undemanding request knocked something loose in her, crumbling away any semblance of composure she'd thought she had.

"I…I almost died." She could already feel the tears prickling the backs of her eyes, but she didn't care, just needed to get it all out as quickly as possible. "We got a lead, Dad. A lead on the guy who…the sniper. From the cemetery." She felt his hand spasm at her words, his fingers gripping tight as she kept going.

"We tracked him down, but he got the drop on us. I fought him, but he was just too good. Too fast, too strong." She felt a tear slide down her cheek, but didn't bother to wipe it away, knowing it was just the first of many. "He told me I didn't stand a chance, that I'd never get the guy who had Mom killed. He said this was bigger than I could imagine, and that I was just wasting my time." She forced her eyes to hold steady on his, knowing he would need the contact for what came next. "And then he threw me off a roof."

"He _what?_"

She winced at the shock which flooded his features, a mixture of anger and distress suffusing his tone, and she tried to reassure him with a quick smile and a firm squeeze of her hand. "It's okay, Dad. I didn't fall."

"He threw you off a _roof?_ Where was Rick? Did he pull you up?"

She shook her head, swiping the back of her free hand across the salty drops collecting along her jaw line. "No, he wasn't there. We had a fight."

"About what?"

"About me. About Mom's case." She sniffed, swallowing hard before continuing. This memory was unbelievably difficult to focus on, the recollection of every second of that exchange in her loft still achingly painful and raw. "He…" She hesitated, unsure of how her father would respond. "He made a deal with them. A deal with whoever is behind all of this."

"He _what?_" This time the only thing lacing his words was pure disbelief. "That's not…what kind of deal?"

She shrugged, the casual motion a sharp contrast to the rampage of her emotions. "The kind that kept me safe. All year. It's what stopped them from coming after me again when I didn't…when I survived the first time."

She watched as he struggled to process the information, waiting for him in silence with their hands anchored together, sympathizing completely. It was just three weeks ago that she'd been on the other end of this conversation.

When he finally spoke, it was with a calm voice, almost too calm. "So…he made a deal…with the man who had your mother murdered?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, no, it wasn't like that. There was this other guy, an old friend of Captain Montgomery's, and he's the one who contacted Castle, and…" She sighed in frustration at the complexity of it all, at the difficulty of putting it into words. "Castle has no idea who's behind any of it. He only knows that this man called him, and told him that if he could keep me from working the case, I'd be safe. And he believed him. And that's why he's steered me clear of everything related to Mom's murder, at least everything since last September."

Her father studied her carefully, obviously trying to work out how she felt about all of this.

"And that's why you fought. Because he wanted you to stop chasing the sniper, and you wouldn't." She nodded wordlessly, another tear winding its way down her cheek. "And that's why he wasn't there with you on the roof." She nodded again, her vision blurring as the _aloneness_ of that moment on the edge splintered once more through her mind.

"Katie…" It was his turn to hesitate, his gaze dropping to the table as he considered his words. And when he spoke, she knew that the question which left his lips wasn't the one he'd really wanted to ask. "Did you get him? The sniper?"

"No, he got away." She reached out towards the stack of clean napkins left over from dinner and peeled off the top one, wiping her nose and blotting the wetness from her cheeks.

He watched her movements, attempting to keep his face even and relaxed as he spoke again. "And…how are you doing with that?"

Her heart clenched at his cautious inquiry, recognizing his efforts to keep her talking without triggering her defenses. She sensed the trepidation in his voice, the palpable worry just barely contained beneath the surface of his seemingly dispassionate words, and she suddenly realized – with the sheer clarity of a lightning strike – how utterly _naïve_ she'd been.

All these years, she'd convinced herself that the search for her mother's murderer wasn't just for her, but for her father as well. For both of them. That they were in it together. But she couldn't have been more wrong.

She'd been killing him. This whole time. Just like she'd been killing Castle. Bent on justice – no, vengeance – recklessly risking her life at every twist and turn of the hunt, mindlessly pursuing every tiny clue, every ambiguous lead, completely heedless of the dangers to herself. And all the while, she'd been wholly oblivious to the despair of those closest to her, blind to their helpless horror as she threw herself full-force into the line of fire. God, she'd been so incredibly selfish.

That ended _now._

"I'm…I'm letting it go." She swallowed hard. "All of it. Everything. And…I'm okay with it."

She saw the stab of pain behind his eyes, the sorrow which slipped across his features at her words, the doubt. He didn't believe her. "Dad." She leaned forward, capturing his other hand and pressing both of his palms tightly within hers. "I'm _really_ okay." Her gaze held steady, urging him to search her green depths, allowing him to verify the truth of her statement for himself.

She felt his fingers clasp against hers, watched as the beginnings of relief crept tentatively across his features. "Okay." She smiled as he said it again with more certainty. "Okay. I believe you, Katie. I do."

"Good." She leaned back with a deep sigh, suddenly exhausted. "And I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so, _so_ sorry that this…" she gestured distractedly, unable to formulate the right words, but knowing that she didn't really need to, not with him, "this _thing_ took me so far away for so long."

There were tears in_ his_ eyes now as he realized how complete this transformation in her truly was. "You don't have to apologize for that, Katie. I understand. I always have." He tugged her hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against the backs of her fingers. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart." He beamed at her with shining eyes. "And your mom would be too."

She was overwrought, couldn't manage anything more than a simple 'Thanks, Dad' around her tears. But it was enough.

They sat in silence for a long time, both of them lost in their separate thoughts yet safe in the knowledge that neither was alone. She wasn't sure how many minutes it had been since he'd last spoken, but when his voice eventually broke the soft cadence of the forest around them, it managed to startle her.

"So what happened with Rick?"

The pure and utterly rapturous smile which exploded across her features was all the answer he needed. "Oh, Katie." He raised his right arm and cupped her cheek in his palm. "I'm so happy for you. For both of you."

And then he laughed suddenly, breaking the intensity of the moment as his hand dropped back to the table and his eyebrows shot skyward. "Lord knows it's about time!"

"Dad!" She drew her lips together in a vain attempt to fight her own grin and tossed a napkin at his head.

He ducked aside, chuckling. "What? You've got to admit, you two have been dancing around this for _years_. I bet all of your friends at the precinct had a pool going for just when exactly you'd both wake up and finally smell the coffee."

The bright light in her eyes dimmed instantly, the by-now-familiar twinge of regret sweeping through her mind. He noticed the change in her demeanor, his brow furrowing in confusion then smoothing over as he realized what he'd said.

"You never did tell me about your resignation, Katie."

She sighed, back to feeling exhausted. Her reasons for resigning were a tangled, jumbled mess of complication. She still hadn't even attempted to sort through it all, hadn't – beyond the absolute basics – discussed it with anyone. Not even Castle.

"There's really not much to tell."

She rose from the table and started gathering together the empty and nearly-empty serving plates, avoiding his eyes. "I just don't need it anymore. I became a cop because of Mom, but now I'm trying to move past that." She shrugged and risked a glance in his general direction, hoping he'd be content with her admittedly vague answer. "I guess I just felt like moving on should extend to the job as well."

He raised his eyebrows at her and tilted his head, not saying a word, letting the silence do the talking. She hated when he did this. _Hated_ it. Mostly because it almost always seemed to work. She shifted uneasily beneath his stare, finally breaking and retreating towards the protection of the kitchen, using the plates and cutlery in her hands as an unspoken excuse to get safely out of dodge. She heard the creak of the old wooden table behind her and cursed silently. Apparently she wasn't escaping that easy.

"So what's the real reason?" he asked casually as he swept into the kitchen moments later, arms laden with the remainder of the dishes.

She sighed from her position at the sink, watching as the hot water teased the dish soap into a glimmering miasma of rainbow-streaked bubbles. "I'm not sure," she admitted softly. He deposited his cargo on the counter beside her before leaning against it, arms crossed, waiting patiently for her to continue.

She ran her hands restlessly through her hair, pushing hard against her scalp and lacing her fingers at the back of her neck, her head dipping beneath their weight. "After the fiasco on the roof, we – Esposito and I – got completely reamed by Gates. She said we'd dishonored the badge." She raised her head to look at him. "And she suspended us."

His eyes were sympathetic, but the force of his gaze didn't let up.

She bit her lip. "She was right, Dad. What she said, about dishonoring the force, not deserving to wear the uniform, she was right." She turned back to the sink, plunging plate after plate into the hot water, needing her hands active. "And it hit me, you know, how far I'd fallen. I'd bent all the rules, gone off half-cocked, lost one partner to my own obsession and put another right into the middle of a senseless war that wasn't even his to begin with. And I nearly died myself."

She tossed the silverware into the sink slowly, piece by piece, watching the slender utensils slip silently away beneath the bubbles, swallowed up as if they'd never existed. "And when she asked for my badge, I just stood there for the longest time, holding it in my hand. And I realized that I had _no idea_ who I was without it." Her fingers were once again empty, flexing into the nothingness.

"And then I realized that I _wanted_ to know."

Her eyes drifted up from the sink, seemingly of their own accord, her gaze unfocused as she stared out the window in front of her. "I wanted to meet the Kate Beckett who _wasn't_ defined by a shiny piece of metal. Who wasn't characterized by her job alone. Who wasn't consumed by the past." With an effort, she dragged her eyes back to his.

"I wanted to meet _that_ Kate Beckett. So I resigned."

There was a beat of stillness which seemed to last an eternity, and then a gentle smile broke across his face. She smiled back, the relief she felt at his evident acceptance of her decision absolutely indescribable. She leaned into his outstretched arms gratefully, burrowing deep within his embrace.

"Katherine Beckett, you are one of the bravest people I have ever known," he whispered into her ear. "I have no idea what the future will bring, or where it will take you. But _I _do know who you are, with or without the badge. You are your mother's daughter. You are a beautiful, extraordinary young woman. And you have always been – and will continue to be – a constant source of wonder and inspiration to me." He pulled away just far enough to find her eyes with his own. "And I am so proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad." She untangled one of her arms, using the back of her wrist to wipe away the tears which were once again streaking down her cheeks. She smiled as she noticed the matching set on his face. Well at least she wasn't the only one who couldn't keep the waterworks under control today.

She sniffed and rolled her eyes. "We are in _serious _need of some tissues."

He laughed, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as he released her. "I'll go grab a box from the bathroom."

She watched him round the corner and disappear from sight, then turned with another sniff of her nose and swung the door of the bottom cupboard open to retrieve the green rubber gloves she knew he kept there. Tears or no, the dishes weren't going to wash themselves.

She was just slipping on the second one when a muffled chime came from the direction of the kitchen table. She turned at the sound, recognizing the message alert on her cell phone. Right. It was still stowed away in the tote bag, hanging forgotten beneath her leather jacket on one of the chairs. She walked over to the table, already shucking the gloves.

It was buried deep, wedged beneath sunglasses, keys, a bottle of water, her tattered paperback copy of _In a Hail of Bullets_, and the sweater she'd brought for when it inevitably cooled down later this evening. While she was in the process of extricating it, a second alert sounded. Two messages in a row? She bit her lip, checking a grin. They weren't _necessarily_ from him.

But when she finally managed to pull the stubborn thing free she gave up entirely on the hopeless attempt to hide her smile. She had _eleven_ messages. One was from Lanie, who was at the Ryans' holiday barbecue and had obviously been elected as the official delegate of that event. Her cheerful SMS contained the collective well wishes of basically everyone in attendance, accompanied by a smiling group photo with herself, Ryan, and Jenny front and center.

The other ten messages were all from Castle.

She thumbed through them one by one, the corners of her lips twitching higher with every single word she read.

_Hey, so I know we just talked like an hour ago, but I'm thinking of you, and I hope you have a great day with your dad. Miss you._

The second message was time-stamped as being sent just one minute after the first.

_And wish him a Happy Memorial Day from me! Oh, and from Alexis. Aaand from my mother. You know what? Just say it's from the whole Castle clan. Great, now I'm being berated for using the word 'clan'. Did I mention I miss you?_

Less than a minute later…

_I just realized you're probably already on your way up to the cabin. On your Harley. In tight black leather. And now I need to go jump into the really cold ocean… ;)_

She smirked and rolled her eyes, continuing on to number four, which he'd sent about two hours ago.

_Alexis is making me text you. Apparently it's very important that you know I just fell down the back stairs and landed face-first in the sand. They're laughing hysterically and I still haven't been asked if I'm okay. It's appalling._

Two minutes after that…

_I've been threatened with no ice cream if I don't divulge the fact that our back stairs aren't really 'stairs' at all...more like just a single step. And that the reason I fell is because I was pretending to be Iron Man._

That drew an actual laugh from her lips, and she quickly scrolled to the next one.

_Yeah, pretending badly._

Oh, that one _so_ wasn't from him.

_Hey, that one wasn't even from me! Alexis just stole my phone! And that's not true. I do a GREAT Robert Downey Jr. It's even better than my Chris Walken!_

She shook her head, grinning at the memory. She'd never, _ever_ tell him this, but she actually thought his Christopher Walken impression was pretty good. She kept scrolling. The next message was from about an hour ago.

_Thank you so much for reminding me to grab those marshmallows when we went to the store on Thursday! I'm at the shop down the road right now, and they're sold out! Can you believe that? On Memorial Day! You totally saved the bonfire, Kate. If I could kiss you right now, I would! :)_

Her heart skipped a beat. God, she really, _really_ missed this man. Only two more days until he got back, though. And then he wouldn't be allowed to _stop _kissing her.

She'd reached the final two messages now, the ones he'd sent just a moment ago.

_We're about to head out for the bonfire and I'm going to leave my phone here. Knowing my luck with cellular devices, it probably wouldn't survive if I took it along. Water AND flames? It'd be doomed! We'll be out really late, so I'm signing off for the night. I hope you had a wonderful day with your dad, and that you got the chance to talk everything through. Until tomorrow, Kate. I love you._

Her eyes misted. One of these days, she was going to say that back. She blinked away the moisture. There was one message left. Curious, she thumbed it open.

_I'm just sending this one to make it an even ten. ;)_

Her spontaneous peal of laughter filled the kitchen and echoed down the hall, greeting her father as he returned, a box of tissues held triumphantly aloft in his right hand. He swallowed what he'd been about to say, just taking in the sight of her, the beautiful profile of her face alight with happiness. He lowered the box and grinned. He didn't really need to ask, but he went ahead anyway.

"Rick?"

She turned at the sound of his voice, not even attempting to hide the smile which danced across her lips.

"Yeah." She gestured to the phone. "He says Happy Memorial Day."

He cocked his head to the side, eyes twinkling. "Well, he's certainly got that right, doesn't he?"

* * *

**Holy ridiculously long chapter, Batman! If you stuck with it to the end, even a million thank yous wouldn't suffice in expressing my appreciation. Writing this was _utterly_ exhausting, but I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out. I tackled a LOT of Beckett's emotions, not to mention her dad's, and I'm fully aware that my interpretation of those emotions might not jive with what all of you guys had in mind. That being said, please please please: if you took the time to get this far with me, just take another second and shoot me a review with your thoughts on this chapter. I'm really craving feedback on the characters' voices and the emotional angle I took, and whatever feedback I get is _definitely_ going to directly influence future chapters! So, I eagerly await your critiques - positive, negative, and anything in between!**

**And, I hope this goes without saying, but just to be sure: thank you so much for reading. You guys rock! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**So Friday night, I'm teaching a class, and we're learning the names of baby animals. And I tell the kids: "A foal is what we call a baby horse. And a young girl horse is also called a filly. Does anyone know – or can anyone guess – what we call a young boy horse?" And one of my students responds _immediately_ with: "A _FILLION!_"**

**Bwa-ha-ha! Just thought you guys might get as much of a kick out of that as I did! :)**  
**Now, onto Chapter 4…**

* * *

_Just stay there,  
__'Cause I'll be coming over…_

* * *

The elevator wasn't nearly fast enough. She should have taken the stairs.

She rolled her eyes at her own impatience. The stairs. Right. All the way to the very top of his building. Brilliant. But at least then she'd have been on the move, the rhythmic propulsion of her muscles a counterbalance to the racing excitement of her thoughts.

Instead, she was literally caged within the enclosure of the elevator, pacing like a…well, like a tiger. She rolled her eyes again, forcing herself to stand still, watching the numbers on the digital display climb slowly, desperately willing them to just speed the hell up.

He'd called her early that morning from the Hamptons to let her know when they'd be getting back into town, his voice boyishly excited as he invited her to meet them at the loft for a late lunch. She grinned wide, ridiculously so, her teeth automatically tugging at the corner of her bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt to mask her giddy expression.

It hadn't just been this morning. He'd called her _every_ morning. Every, single morning he'd been away. "I hope you don't mind," he'd apologized the first time. "But I really couldn't stand the thought of getting out of bed before hearing your voice." There was a pause, as if he wasn't sure he should say the rest, then: "I think I'm addicted to waking up with you, Kate."

She'd felt like such a dope at the utter joy which plastered itself across every inch of her face, berating herself silently even as she basked in the happiness. She should really have more control over her emotions. This was ridiculous. After all, he'd been gone less than twenty-four hours. And the intense ache she felt at his absence was entirely absurd.

The defensive part of her mind was already reacting, scrambling for a comeback to his words, a sarcastic, sure-fire quip to skirt safely past the sentiment. But the rest of her…the rest of her just _melted_.

And, apparently, a melty Kate Beckett trumped a smart-ass Kate Beckett, at least at seven a.m. in the morning, when she was still in bed, half-asleep, and sort of groggy due to her pre-caffeinated status. Uh-huh, those _must_ be the reasons. Because it _definitely_ couldn't be the amazing man waiting for her reply on the other end of the line. Nope. Definitely not. I mean, what was she? Whipped? Her lips twitched at the thought. Oh, he'd have _such_ a field day with_ that_ comment…

"Uh, Kate?" His voice resonated in her ear, slightly uncertain.

Oh. Response. Right. She revisited his words, smiling even wider._ I'm addicted to waking up with you_. Uh-huh, melty Kate was_ totally_ winning this round. No question.

"You're not the only one, Castle," she confessed, secretly relishing the words as they tripped off her tongue. "I've kinda gotten used to it myself. And…" Now it was her turn to hesitate, but only briefly. "I'm really glad that you called."

She could practically hear the smile as it split his face. "Yeah? You are?"

She rolled her eyes in amusement. "Yeah, I am."

"_How_ glad?"

His mischievous tone drew an unbidden laugh from her lips, and she knew without a doubt that his sweet smile had just gone rogue, bright blue eyes sparkling with impish humor as his brows waggled suggestively up and down. God, she missed him. And damned if she _wasn't_ whipped. Ugh. How in the _hell_ was she going to last five whole days without him?

It was a really good question, and one she still didn't have an answer to, even five days later. The truth was, she had no idea how she'd managed it. She was just glad she had, and that the waiting was finally, _finally_ over.

Well, almost. She scowled at the inexorable tick of the red numbers above her. _Move._ _Faster_.

She was so entirely focused on their hypnotic progression that the sudden ring of her cell phone caught her completely by surprise. She jumped as the noise reverberated, echoing loudly throughout the confines of the elevator. Dragging her eyes from the slowly-ascending numbers, she turned her head, her right hand dropping to the back pocket of her jeans, fingers searching out the offensively earsplitting device.

As she was in the process of extricating it, the cheery ding of the elevator sounded, its doors parting with a whoosh, and her heart leapt. _Yes!_ She took an eager step forward, her eyes still focused upon the freshly-retrieved cell phone in her hand.

She barely had time to register the familiar picture on its display before she careened full-force into a 6'2 barreling mass of muscle.

Between the two of them, he had more momentum, and she found herself staggering under the impact, the weight of his body forcing her back inside the elevator as they both struggled to regain a semblance of balance. His arms encircled her waist, steadying her enough so that when she inevitably hit the wall behind her, she didn't hit it very hard. She'd just barely managed to keep a hold of her phone during the collision, and her fingers tightened around it even as her other hand instinctively clutched at the back of his arm, gripping the slippery fabric of his dress shirt.

"Beckett?"

The sound of his voice was magnetic, all of her senses attuning instantly as her eyes snapped to his.

"Castle?"

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his words. "I'm sorry, I was actually just calling you, and I wasn't look-"

His voice cut off abruptly as she surged forward, engulfing his lips with her own.

She detonated on impact, the familiar and exhilarating taste of him setting her ablaze. A sheer conflagration enveloped her mind and senses alike as a scorching tongue of fire licked straight down her spine, flaring its way to her abdomen, curling and burning outward from there in a deliciously ferocious inferno which left not a hint of room for anything resembling restraint.

Because hot sex pressed up against the wall of an elevator where anyone might witness them? Not a notion she'd normally entertain. Not at all. But 'normally' be damned. _Screw_ restraint. _Literally._

To Castle's undying credit, he just went with it.

She gasped at the bite of his teeth against her neck, moaned as his fingers glided beneath her shirt, and complied instantly to the unspoken demand of his arms when his palms dropped to her thighs and pulled upwards, wrapping both her legs around his waist as he slid her up the wall. Their bodies tangled, twisted, locking together in all the right places. They were both gasping now, chests heaving desperately, the sheer intensity of the moment combining potently with an utter lack of oxygen, because their mouths had _much_ better things to be doing than _breathing._

She already had his shirt completely unbuttoned, ripping the bottom edge from the confines of his slacks as her impatient fingers sought bare skin. Her jeans were unbuttoned as well, and his fingers were no longer impatient, they were just _busy._

She pressed herself further into his touch, further into his arms, further into his kiss. _Further, further, further._

Sucking down some much-needed air around the insistent pressure of his hungry lips, she canted her hips, the new angle maximizing the unbelievable sensations he was creating between her legs. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she stifled yet another moan. God, she'd missed this. Missed him. And she needed him. She needed him _now._

Knowing there was no way she'd be able to concentrate with his voracious tongue doing what it was currently doing, she wrenched her mouth reluctantly from his, dropping her gaze and watching her hands as they traveled swiftly down his broad chest, attempting to gather a semblance of focus through the thick haze of lust swamping her senses as her fingers began jerking at his belt, still irritatingly fastened and secure between the V of her thighs.

In her quest to undo the offending length of leather, her arms inadvertently bumped against his, knocking them away from her, and she felt him stumble slightly, pulling his hands hastily from her body to brace against the wall on either side of her, stopping them both from falling to the floor. She heard him growl against her ear, equal parts irritated at the necessity to stop what he'd been doing to her and utterly approving of her new and current endeavor.

She smiled at the sound, but didn't look up, too intent upon her task. With a satisfying _clink_, the two ends of the belt separated. _Yes._

And then the ding of the elevator chimed again, ringing in her ears. She shot a glance over Castle's shoulder. The doors were closing. _No._

Regardless of how much she was enjoying the current state of affairs – and she was enjoying it _very_ much – there was just no way in _hell_ she was making another trip on this elevator. The last ride had been torment enough, and, present company not withstanding, she really wasn't eager to take another. Not when she was _finally_ in a position to escape.

Well, actually, she wasn't really in a position to escape…

"Castle," she breathed urgently, pushing against his shoulders and unwrapping her legs from around his body. "Move."

"What?" he mumbled against her neck as she slid to her feet in front of him, his hands dropping automatically to her waist to steady her. His dark eyes flicked to hers, dripping with desire. "Moving is the_ last_ thing I want to do." He ground his hips firmly against hers and dipped his head, his tongue darting out to glide along her clavicle as his right hand slipped dangerously close to the front of her still-open jeans.

She gripped the edges of his shirt and used the leverage of the wall to push herself forward, propelling him backward, her right hand darting out beneath his arm to slap the 'open doors' button on the control panel. She heaved a sigh of relief when the shiny metal partitions slid apart again without protest. They were still on his floor. She kept up her momentum, duck-walking both herself and Castle off the elevator and into the hall, which was mercifully empty, given their current state of undress.

After a brief moment, his back struck the wall with a gentle bump, and they were once more pressed flush to a hard surface. And to each other. Her heart instantly resumed its hammering pace, every nerve in her body responding to his. He noticed. Of course he did.

"Prefer the hallway to the elevator, Detective?" he asked with a grin, tightening his hold on her hips.

Her eyes flew to his, her smile faltering. The mirth in his expression drained away immediately, the muscles in his face contracting as he realized what he'd just said. He'd been very, _very_ careful not to use that particular form of address over the past three weeks. _So_ careful. And now, after _finally_ seeing her again after five days apart…_dammit._

"Kate, I…"

She pressed her lips to his, cutting his words off for the second time that day. "Don't, Castle. It's fine." She kissed him again, smiling gently to reassure him, knowing he'd need it. "I'm fine."

"I'm such an idiot," he mumbled, wrapping her into a hug.

She shook her head. "You're not." After a brief moment, she dug her chin playfully into his shoulder, eliciting a slight yelp from his lips as he twisted sideways in an awkward attempt to escape her. "Or, at least not for _that_ particular comment."

He pulled away to look her in the eye, scowling slightly. "You're mean."

She laughed, leaning in for yet another kiss. It started light, but deepened quickly, reigniting the passion they'd been so thoroughly lost in mere moments ago. He broke away first, and it was her turn to growl in frustration. She chose to ignore his withdrawal, dropping her open mouth to his chest, her hands pulling the sides of his shirt away to grant herself unfettered access to his warm, irresistible skin.

"Kate…" She could tell he was going for stern and cautionary, but mostly he just sounded turned on. She grinned.

"I missed you, Castle," she murmured against him, trailing her tongue up his sternum to tease along his collarbone. She felt him hum deep in his chest, the reverberation tingling through her lips. She smiled as his fingers clutched at her hips then slipped up her sides to her face, threading back through her hair. She nipped her way up his neck, slid along the length of his jaw, and came to rest with her mouth hovering scant millimeters above his. "Didn't you miss me?"

"If you don't stop right now," he warned breathlessly, his dark eyes boring into hers, "you're gonna find out _exactly_ how much I missed you, and you're gonna find out right here in this hallway."

She bit her lip slowly, her gaze sliding away from his and settling onto his mouth, and _dear God_, it looked like she was actually _considering_ it. "Well…"

Unfortunately, he never got to hear her full reply, because the sudden blare of his cell phone interrupted her. The sultry look on her face shattered into shock, and he couldn't help a grin as she quite literally jumped skyward in surprise.

"Castle!" she exclaimed, twisting around to dig his exceedingly loud and energetically vibrating cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans. "Why the _hell_ is _your_ phone in _my_ pocket?"

He raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. "What else was I supposed to do with it? You _jumped_ me, Beckett. You _jumped_ me in the _elevator._ And I needed both hands." He shrugged nonchalantly before snagging the phone from her fingers, eyes twinkling at the stunned look on her face. "Your pocket seemed as good a place as any."

He glanced at the phone to see who was calling, then tapped the 'ignore' button. "Besides," he grinned, thoroughly enjoying her flabbergasted expression, "it was highly convenient, because my hands were already…_employed_ in that general vicinity."

"Wait," she finally said, shaking off the disbelief as her head snapped around to look at the closed elevator doors. "Where's _my_ phone?"

He reached behind his back then tapped her on the shoulder, palm extended. She turned to face him then looked down. He was holding out her cell phone in his hand. "_My_ pocket," he stated simply, as if that made all the sense in the world.

She gave him a look as she grabbed it. A Beckett look. _Uh-oh._

"Hey, it was hurting me!" She increased the magnitude of her glare. _Oh boy_. "You had your hands all over me, and one of those hands had a phone in it," he hastened to clarify. "And it hurt! So I took it away from you. And _your_ hands were employed in the vicinity of _my_ pockets at the time." He couldn't help giving her a waggle of his eyebrows. "I've noticed that your hands like the vicinity of my pockets, Beckett."

"Complaining?" she shot back, her own eyebrows arching.

"Nope." He pulled her towards him with a smile, tilting his head charmingly. "My pockets are _quite_ fond of your hands. In fact, my pockets feel your hands should come around much more often."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a dork."

He nudged her nose with his own. "Yes, and you love it."

Her gaze locked onto his, her eyes widening slightly at his words.

He studied her startled features for a moment, confused. _What…?_

Oh. Oh,_ damn_ it! What the hell was _wrong_ with him today? His foot had apparently taken up permanent residence in his mouth. _Do something, you_ _imbecile!_ He cleared his throat, dropping his gaze, mind searching desperately for neutral ground…

"Yeah, that's actually true."

She bit back a smile as his eyes returned to hers with a rubber band-like snap, so fast she was worried he might have…was there actually such a thing as whiplash of the eyes? _Eyelash?_ She cringed slightly at the thought. Okay, _that_ one was _never_ going to be shared. She returned her attention to Castle, who was staring at her with a mixture of incredulity and delight. Her expression softened. Was he really _so_ surprised at her statement?

"Castle…"

And his phone rang again.

They both scowled down at the offending apparatus, and Kate's scowl intensified when she saw the image flashing on his display. "Gina?" she asked unnecessarily.

"Yeah," he sighed. "It was her a second ago, too." He shot her a remorseful look. "Do you mind…?" She waved her hand in assent, taking the opportunity his 'Hello?' provided to button up her pants. Wow. This whole time she'd been standing in his hallway with unbuttoned pants. She glanced up, catching his eye. He was watching her, an amused and slightly smug expression adorning his features. Oh crap. He was never going to let her live this down.

"Yes, Gina, I'm aware of that."

Of course, _he_ was fairly disheveled, too. She eyed him up and down, admiring her own handiwork. Yeah, he was _thoroughly_ tousled. She bit her lip to hide her satisfied smirk.

"I know, it's the same thing you said to me twenty minutes ago."

His tone was one of pure annoyance, and as she caught his gaze, her smile morphed from satisfied to sympathetic. She stepped closer and began to re-button his shirt for him, starting at the top, 'accidentally' grazing her nails against his skin occasionally as she worked her way down. She heard his breath hitch and grinned wider.

"Uh-huh, I understand, Gina. Yes."

He inhaled sharply as her fingers reached his slacks, leisurely tracing their top edge before dipping slightly below it. His free hand immediately rose to grip hers, stilling her movements. She met his hot stare, not bothering to hide the mischief in her eyes.

"Okay. Right. I'll be there in twenty."

He dropped the phone apologetically from his ear as the smile dropped abruptly from her face.

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah." The frustration in his voice should probably have made her feel better, but it really didn't. "That's why I was heading to the elevator. And why I was calling you." He released her hand to cup her face gently, rubbing his thumb along her cheek.

"The main promotional launch of _Frozen Heat_ is only a month or so away, and Gina's been nagging me about a meeting with the Sales and Marketing Department for weeks, but I've been putting it off. Then twenty minutes ago, she called and told me she'd arranged a lunch meeting with just about everyone and to get my ass down there, or else." He sighed, his hand leaving her cheek to run through his hair. "It's really my own fault. I should have met with these guys way before now." He looked at her again, a truly genuine apology housed in his eyes. "I'm really sorry, Kate."

She nodded. "How long will it take?"

"A few hours, more or less. Probably more. I'll be home in time for a late dinner, for sure. But," he added quickly, before she could say anything, "Alexis is still here. We ordered lunch before I got the call from Gina – Chinese – and it's on its way, should arrive any minute. And I was calling to tell you that I wouldn't be here, but that you were more than welcome to still come eat, and, you know…hang out for the afternoon. If you wanted."

He barely paused for breath before continuing. "But if not, that's okay, too. Maybe I could make it up to you tonight? Dinner, movie, dancing, whatever you want, Kate. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't-"

She clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shut up, Castle." She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Of _course_ I'll stay. Chinese? Hanging with Alexis? Seeing you again in a few hours? There's absolutely no downside." She smiled at the happiness her words so obviously elicited in his features. "Well, maybe one downside," she revised thoughtfully.

His expression instantly transformed to worry. "What's that?"

"No hallway sex," she whispered against his mouth, biting his bottom lip playfully as she gave an accompanying tug on his still unfastened belt.

He hummed appreciatively and she suddenly found herself pushed forcefully up against the opposite wall, right next to the elevator. Walls were kind of a theme today apparently. He took a moment to hit the 'down' button then turned his head slowly to hers.

"We may not have time for hallway sex," he mused, eying her up and down with a stare that had her burning all over again, "but we've got an elevator ride's worth of time for the next best thing."

"If you say anything other than 'foreplay', I'm going to bite you again," she warned breathlessly. "_Hard_."

"Well actually," he admitted, his tone teasing as he dropped his lips to her nose in a light kiss, "I was going to suggest _snuggling_. But, seeing as how you're all _hot_ for me at the moment…"

And then his mouth was devouring hers, and she didn't even really know when the elevator got there, or how exactly she got inside it, or at what point he pushed the button telling the infernal thing what to do, but around the time their legs were tangled haphazardly together, their hands both buried beneath each others' shirts, and their tongues urgently tasting one another at shoulder and ear, respectively, she caught sight of the red numbers above the door.

They were _plummeting._

She glared at them, entrenching herself even deeper within Castle's embrace before silently shooting the most furious command she could muster in the direction of the descending digits. _Move. Slower._

The numbers reached one, and the accompanying ding sounded loudly.

God, she _really_ hated this _damned_ elevator…

* * *

**I've affectionately dubbed this chapter _Caskett's Revenge._ See, this insane fluffiness is what happens when your last chapter didn't have _any_ direct Castle/Beckett interaction a_nd_ you put off writing the _next_ chapter for over two weeks! And I'm sorry about that two-week delay, guys. I've been working on a new Castle fanvid, which is so-very-nearly finished, and it's been monopolizing all of my time. Should be pretty epic once it's done, though! Yeah, yeah, I know, I've already been thoroughly chastised by a concerned friend for 'cheating' on my fanfic with a video. But it's not _really_ cheating, because both the vid and the story are Castle-related. They shouldn't be jealous of each other, right? _Right?_ Anyway, hope this chapter was worth the wait!**

**Thanks for taking the time to read, and as always, I'd genuinely love to hear your thoughts! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**So this chapter isn't so much a one-shot as a direct continuation of the previous chapter. If you've already read that one, you're good to go. If not, I recommend checking it out before reading further – it just sets the scene for what follows here. I also wanted to take a sec to tell all of you how _great_ you are. Truly. Whether you're reading and reviewing regularly, or reading and setting alerts, or just reading and hanging about in lurky silence (which is _totally_ what I used to do on this site), I wanted to say thank you for being here. It means a lot. :)**

* * *

_And while our blood's still young,  
It's so young it runs…_

* * *

Kate stepped quickly through the still-parting doors of the lift, glaring at it over her shoulder. _Stupid elevator..._

The animosity was probably unwarranted, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She was short one writer, and that fact made her extremely irritable. Of course, in exchange, she now had five large bags of steaming-hot Chinese takeout. _Five_ bags. She rolled her eyes.

The delivery guy had staggered clumsily into the lobby just as both she and Castle had staggered breathlessly from the elevator, and at the sight of the poor kid weighted down with such an absolutely _ridiculous_ amount of food, she'd skewered Castle with a mute expression which spoke volumes.

But he hadn't even had the good grace to look ashamed at his obvious overkill. This, he'd maintained in a casual response to her silent indictment, was the _only_ way to do Chinese food, and it was hardly the _first_ time she'd personally experienced his Asian takeout methodology, _and_ he'd just spent the last several minutes very thoughtfully working up her…_appetite_, so he really had no idea what she was complaining about.

She'd contemplated an ear tweak. It had been awhile, after all. He was due for some punishment.

But, if she was being honest – at least with herself – he did have a fairly valid point. On all counts. Besides, she was absolutely starving, her growling stomach already halfway to convincing her that she could, in fact, make a very significant dent in this heaping mountain of food progressing towards her. So why not just let him have this round? _Yeah right._

"Yeah, you're right, Castle," she'd stated evenly, drawing a surprised and slightly suspicious look from him as she'd sauntered forward into the lobby. She'd met the exceedingly grateful teen halfway, pausing only long enough to verify that yes, everything had already been paid for. She'd relieved him of his substantial burden, whirled back around, and swept past the still-distrustful writer with nothing more than a coolly arched eyebrow and a cavalier 'thanks _so much_ for the appetite' before disappearing back inside the elevator.

His scowling face was the last thing she'd glimpsed before the doors closed, his indignant words – "Okay, now I just feel _used…_" – echoing faintly in her ears.

She grinned, shifting her hold on the heavy bags before starting off down the hall. He really was such an easy mark. She sort of loved that about him. And she couldn't wait until he got back. Five days away was five days too long, and knowing that she'd see him again in just a few scant hours lit her features with delight.

But with every step towards the entrance of the loft, her expression shifted slightly, the levity melting into seriousness as her forward momentum faltered. Her reunion with Castle, although much briefer than she would have preferred, had been very nearly perfect, but now the full significance of what she'd set herself up for this afternoon – the gravity of it – was finally sinking in.

Hours and hours…with Alexis. Just the two of them. Alone. No Castle. No Martha. No buffer and no safety net. She'd be completely on her own.

That notion should _not_ be terrifying. And yet somehow, it was. It _really_ was. Because in spite of how readily she'd agreed to sticking around while Castle was gone, the idea of 'hanging with Alexis' wasn't nearly as simple and stress-free as it sounded.

Not that it was stress_ful_ either. It wasn't. It was just…ambiguous.

The general interaction between the two of them over the past few weeks had been pleasant enough, but it had also been cautious, cautious to the point of feeling superficial. And as infuriating as it was to admit, she truly didn't know where she stood in Alexis' eyes. Lately, the teen had been a tightly-closed book, and, for a detective – well, _ex_-detective – it really didn't get any more frustrating than that. She was used to discerning, used to _knowing_, used to being the one who held all the cards, the one who sat on the calm and collected side of the interrogation room table, not nervously opposite.

And if she could transport herself back to a year ago, she'd have had much more confidence, been much more relaxed and assured, almost certain in the knowledge that, although she would still need to prove her dedication, commitment, and yes, _love_, Alexis already looked on her and her place in Castle's life favorably. Because they'd always had an affable connection. A balanced, open rapport. Even a friendship of sorts. Now, though…

She just wasn't sure.

Generally speaking, Alexis seemed fine with the status change in her and Castle's relationship, and she hadn't done or said a thing to indicate anger, disapproval, or resentment. And Kate took that as a promising sign, she really did. But she was also painfully aware of how very, _very_ carefully the teen was watching her.

The same faint worry she'd sensed in Castle over the last few weeks – the worry that she _would_ eventually run – was present in his daughter as well, and she knew Alexis didn't trust her. Not that she blamed the girl. Trust was something to be earned, and her actions over this past year hadn't been particularly reliable, or honest. Especially where Castle was concerned.

But it was different now. _She_ was different. She wanted so much more than this, so much more than reserved cordiality and polite civility. She wanted the trust. Needed it. Not just from Castle. From his daughter as well. And she _could_ do this. It might not come easily to her, or naturally, but she could be the reliable person. She could be the honest person. And she could be the loving person, too. She just needed to keep reminding herself of that, and she needed to keep _showing_ it to the people closest to her. And that included Alexis.

She reached the door and stopped completely, taking a deep breath.

This was important. And she needed to be fully aware of that before she stepped into whatever the afternoon turned out to be. Because it might be as delightfully simple as great food, easy laughter, and heartfelt conversation. Or it might be as incredibly complicated as only a Castle and Beckett could make it.

She flexed her sore fingers around the obstinate press of the take-out bag handles, glancing down to find that the ends of her digits were starting to turn rather purple. If her lack of circulation was any indication, it was high time to bite the bullet.

_It's Alexis. And she's wonderful, and this is going to be okay. All you have to do is knock, Beckett._

She looked down at the bags in both of her hands again. Hmm. Actually, knocking might be a bit more difficult than she'd originally thought…

She was just angling her elbow up for an awkward side-thump when the door swung open of its own accord.

"Hey, Kate!"

She looked up in surprise at the cheerfully beaming face of Alexis Castle and felt pretty damned ridiculous for all of the anxiety she'd just been swamped in. The girl looked completely relaxed, and genuinely pleased to see her. "Hey, Alexis." She smiled and hefted the food in her hands. "I come bearing lunch."

Alexis grinned even wider. "Excellent, I'm starving." She carefully extricated the two bulging bags from Kate's left hand and motioned the woman inside with a tilt of her head. "Come on in."

She did, shutting the door behind her and following the redhead towards the kitchen. "How'd you know I was at the door?" she asked curiously.

"Dad called," Alexis responded. "Said you were on your way up and that you might need a hand."

Kate's lips quirked. Of course he had.

Alexis reached the kitchen and deposited the food on the counter. "He also said I should tell you to have more respect for his…_methodology_." She stressed the last word with a slight furrow of her eyebrows and a cute purse of her lips then shot an amused look at Kate. "I'm not even sure I wanna know."

Kate let loose a breath of laughter, rolling her eyes and swinging the rest of the bags up beside the two Alexis had brought in. "He tried to convince me that his penchant for ordering insane amounts of food is completely justified." She shook her head. "But I just felt too sorry for the delivery kid to cross over."

Alexis grinned. "Yeah, we do enjoy our Chinese. And our Thai. And pretty much any other Asian-style combination of rice, meat, and veggies you can think of." She tilted her head. "That's my fault, you know."

"What is?" Kate asked inquisitively.

"The ordering too much thing." Alexis propped her forearms on the counter. "When I was a kid, I could never decide what I wanted. So Dad would just order everything on the menu." She looked at Kate, mirth and a tiny trace of embarrassment playing across her features. "He said there was no other choice – if he waited me out, we'd both starve."

"That," declared Kate immediately, "sounds like a typically devious Castle ploy." She leaned forward with a grin. "I'm guessing he'd have ordered it all regardless."

Alexis laughed, pushing herself back from the counter. "Yeah, you're probably right." She tossed Kate a light smile before turning to the overhead cupboard where they kept the plates. "So, you hungry?"

"Definitely," Kate answered. "Let me just lose my boots and then I'll help you unpack the year's worth of provisions."

Alexis' laughter followed her across the room. "Sounds like a plan."

Kate headed back to the entryway, her mind spinning a bit at the warm reception she was receiving. This was more responsiveness than she'd gotten from Alexis in the past three weeks combined. The distance, the wariness, the reserve she'd come to expect – she wasn't sensing that at all. She didn't have a clue what had brought on the change, but whatever the reason, she was definitely enjoying it.

She reached the entryway, her gaze sweeping the interior of the loft as she did. It honestly felt like weeks since she'd been here last. Everything looked pretty much the same, with the exception of the massive mountain of suitcases piled to the left of the front door. She smiled at the sight. Yes, the Castles were most definitely home. She bit the corner of her lip, leaning down quickly to both remove her footwear and simultaneously hide the sudden blush which she could feel sweeping across her cheeks. Was it ridiculous to feel that now, so was she?

She pressed her lips tightly together, struggling to get a grip on her own emotions before rising to her full height and returning to the kitchen and Alexis.

Maybe, but ridiculous or not, it was really nice to be back.

~ s ~ s ~ s ~

So, how was your trip?" Kate asked, genuinely eager to hear the answer as the two of them settled in perpendicular to each other at the counter, a veritable feast spread before them.

"It was really, really great," Alexis enthused happily. "We had a blast." She looked up from the pile of steamed rice she was currently spooning onto her plate. "How was yours? Out to see your dad?"

Kate nodded, reaching for the massive carton of chicken and broccoli. "It was good. I haven't seen him in awhile, so it was nice to talk. We even got a decent fireworks display thanks to the neighbors down the road. Although I'm pretty sure they ended up setting their yard on fire or something." She tapped her nose. "We had that burning leaves smell drifting around for quite awhile."

Alexis snorted. "You'd be appalled at the crazy number of times _we've_ been responsible for fire-related incidents."

Kate raised her eyebrows. "'_We'?_"

Alexis didn't even bother looking up from her orange chicken. "When I say 'we' I usually mean 'Dad'."

Kate smiled. "Fire-related incidents in the Hamptons?"

Alexis glanced at her with a mischievous grin. "Fire-related incidents everywhere."

Kate laughed. "How about this year? Anything I should know about?"

Alexis contemplated for a moment, the chopsticks in her left hand balancing a piece of chicken above her plate. "Not really. Unless you count the illegal fireworks."

Kate waved her own chopsticks in a dismissive gesture. "Found those before you guys left. A master of concealment your father is not."

Alexis smiled. "He gets them every year. After the first few catastrophes, we kind of became experts at setting them off safely." She popped another piece of chicken into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "It was actually a pretty low-key trip. Not much out of the ordinary."

"That's probably a good thing," Kate said, her eyes twinkling. "Out of the ordinary for your dad would most likely be disastrous for the rest of us."

Alexis laughed. "He'd be absolutely thrilled to hear you describe him so dramatically."

"Well he's definitely not boring." Kate pointed her chopsticks at the girl, a mock scowl adorning her features. "But don't _ever_ tell him I said that."

The teen raised her hands in the air with a grin. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The two of them ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Alexis spoke again, her voice hitting a more serious note than it had before. "It was really perfect. Being out there together again."

She hesitated briefly, almost imperceptibly, before continuing in a quieter tone. "It's been awhile."

Kate's green eyes flashed up, meeting pale blue ones across the counter. That had been the epitome of a loaded statement. She waited, wondering if the girl would continue. There was obviously something she wanted to say. But after a moment, Alexis turned her attention wordlessly back to her plate, her cheeks coloring slightly.

The comfortable atmosphere shifted, awkwardness and a hint of tension now infusing the air. Kate took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. She wanted trust? She wanted honesty? Then she had to give them as well. And now was as good a time as any.

"I'm sorry, Alexis. About last summer." She held her gaze steady as the girl looked back up to meet her eyes.

"It's okay," Alexis said quickly. "Really. It wasn't your fault, Kate. You got _shot_."

"No," Kate responded evenly. "I'm not talking about the Hamptons. I'm talking about all of it." She put down her chopsticks and folded her arms in front of her. "I'm talking about what I did. How I acted, how I disappeared. How I just dropped everything." She swallowed against the sudden thickness in her throat. "And everyone."

Alexis stared at her, obviously unsure how to respond.

"It was really selfish, and completely wrong," Kate continued. "And I need you to know that I'm sorry."

She stopped there, not because there wasn't more to say, but because she wasn't sure exactly which part should come next, wasn't sure what Alexis needed most. But whatever it was, she genuinely wanted to give it. She genuinely hoped that she could.

Alexis looked away, her gaze losing focus somewhere above Kate's right shoulder. After what felt like an eternity – but was probably only a few seconds – her eyes returned, unreadable, guarded. "Kate…I'm really not the one you should be apologizing to."

Kate nodded. "Yes, you really are."

She held up a hand to stall the girl's response. "I know I hurt your dad, Alexis. I hurt him _so_ much, and I can't even begin to tell you how much that _kills_ me inside." She bit her lip at the inadequacy of her own words, nearly breaking their gaze, but not allowing herself the escape.

"That's not even…I don't even know how to express the absolute _depth _of my regret. Or how horrified I feel when I think about what he must have gone through. And the thing is, I'll never truly _know_. Because I wasn't _here_."

She clenched her jaw, her eyes fluttering shut for a split second at the brutal truth of her last statement, at the _wrongness_ of it. She forced her lids apart, forced herself to meet the stare of the girl across from her. "But _you_ were."

Alexis dropped her eyes immediately, but not before Kate caught a glimpse of the anger there, a brilliant flash of fury engulfing the blue. She wavered at the intensity of it. She _knew_ that emotion, knew what it looked like on Alexis Castle. It wasn't the first time she'd seen it. But before the girl had a chance to say anything, Kate plowed ahead. _Just give me one more minute, kid. And then give me hell._

"Your dad and I have talked about this. We've talked about this a lot. A little back then, when we started working together again, and so much more now, over the past few weeks." She faltered a bit at her next words, but managed to get them out. "Your dad…he's…to be able to forgive so completely, with his whole heart…he astounds me."

Alexis was still avoiding eye contact, but her face softened imperceptibly at Kate's words, and it was enough encouragement for Kate to finish what she needed to say. She took another deep breath.

"I've apologized to him for my mistakes, Alexis. So many mistakes. So many times. But never, not once, have I apologized to _you_."

The girl looked up at her, eyes awash in…_something_, some pure and heart-breaking emotion, and it pierced Kate to the core.

"I'm sorry, Alexis. For last summer, for just…leaving like that. For the worry you must have felt for your dad, for the pain, the confusion, the anger, for all of it." She bit her lip, bit back the surprising sting behind her eyes. "And I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to say this. It should have been sooner. It should have been much, much sooner."

She felt like she should keep going, say more, but it was time for Alexis to have her chance now. She pressed her lips together, inhaling slowly through her nose, attempting to find a calm before the potential storm.

When the girl finally spoke, her voice sounded unnaturally loud in Kate's ears, a sharp contrast to the previous minute of silence. "I'm not…it wasn't just about Dad, you know." Kate leaned forward, grateful that she'd spoken at all, hopeful that she'd keep going. And she did.

"Not that…I mean, when you left, when you went away, he _was_ a wreck. He was devastated. And it was because of you. And I was so_ furious_ at you, Kate." The words were far from unexpected, but they still shredded her, still tore her apart. She'd known this already, known it had been bad. But hearing Alexis actually say it aloud sliced her raw.

"It was almost him, at the cemetery. It was so _close_ to being him…" Alexis' voice hitched, Kate's heart right along with it. "And I…" The teen looked down, unshed tears in her eyes, her words barely more than a whisper. "I was so _glad_ that it was you."

Kate's right hand was across the counter before she was even aware that she'd moved it, capturing Alexis' fingers with her own. "Me too," she whispered back as her mind's eye instantly conjured the horrific image of Castle bleeding out on green grass. _Anything_ _but that_. "Me too."

She felt the girl stiffen at her touch and she pulled back immediately, releasing her hold. "Sorry."

Alexis shook her head quickly, but drew her hands off the counter and into her lap, away from Kate's. "I didn't _want_ you to get hurt," she said suddenly, a hint of desperation in her tone. "I didn't want…I was _so_ scared for you, Kate. I couldn't see anything, and they were shoving you into the ambulance, and Dad was with you, and there was blood just _everywhere_, coming from you, covering him…"

Kate slammed her eyes shut against the vivid pictures Alexis was painting, but they continued to burn across her retinas, sharp and jagged and inescapable.

"You were so still. So pale. You were…I've never seen you like that before. I've never seen _anyone_ like that before. I thought you were dead. I really, truly thought you were dead. And that…that was the last time I saw you."

Kate's eyes flew open at the words, whipping to Alexis' face in a sudden, rushing realization.

_It wasn't just about Dad, you know…_

Oh God. Oh _God_.

All of the people in her life who were closest to her, who loved her, had been at that cemetery. They'd watched her fall, they'd watched her bleed, they'd watched her strapped nearly lifeless to a gurney and they'd watched her as she was whisked away in a terrifying miasma of red and blue lights. They'd been with her on that operating table, all of them, their hearts hanging just as much in the balance as hers.

She'd seen Castle, after. It had been brief, but she'd seen him. And he'd seen her. Seen that she was okay, that she was alive. And she'd seen Lanie and Ryan and Esposito. She'd left them all behind upon her release from the hospital, left everything behind, for months, but before that happened, before she'd disappeared, they'd _all_ seen her, talked with her, held her hand, confirmed with their own eyes that her heart – in spite of everything – was still beating.

But Alexis…

"I'm so sorry," she breathed. "I hadn't even…I'm _so_ sorry, Alexis."

How had she _never_ comprehended this before? How had she failed to grasp the _magnitude_ of Alexis watching her get shot, watching her bleed out in Castle's arms, watching her nearly _die_, and then receive _nothing _afterwards, nothing at all. No contact, no recognition, no acknowledgement, not even the barest _hint_ of comfort or reassurance, the slightest indication that _anything_ would be okay. The only things the girl had been left with in the wake of the trauma – the only things Kate had bequeathed – were horrific memories, a deafening silence, and her complete and utter desertion.

Alexis was speaking again, obviously moving the conversation forward, but Kate was reeling, unable to focus. This was…she hadn't been prepared for this. She thought she had been, but she hadn't. She'd assumed the pain was indirect. She'd assumed there was a vector. Kate to Castle and only then to Alexis. But there wasn't. It had been an unerringly straight shot. Unerringly straight and brutally deep. And it had come directly from her. How was she ever going to fix this? How did she even start?

"Kate? _Kate!_"

The insistence in the words snapped through the frenzy of her thoughts, bringing her back to the moment immediately. She focused on Alexis' face, saw the concerned alarm etched into every facet of the girl's features. She glanced down and found that her right hand was now gripped tightly within two smaller ones. The teen was well and truly freaked out. Kate must look just as messed up on the outside as she was feeling on the inside.

"Sorry," she said yet again, inhaling deeply and attempting to calm the maelstrom in her mind. "Sorry, I'm just…" Her voice trailed off. She had no idea what she was.

Alexis shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't…" Her eyes darted anxiously across Kate's features, back and forth, as if she were searching for something. "I shouldn't have brought up all that stuff. I know it's still…difficult for you." She dropped her gaze and bit her lower lip uneasily, almost guiltily.

_Guiltily?_ Kate was confused for a brief moment before clarity struck. Her PTSD. Alexis was worried she'd just triggered Kate's PTSD.

She pulled herself together in an instant, her fierce need to allay Alexis' fears overriding everything else. "No, Alexis," she said firmly. "No, that's not what this is about. Alexis, look at me."

She waited until their eyes were locked, deep-sea green carrying the weight of cornflower blue, resolute and unwavering. "I'm _fine_. Everything's fine. And I'm glad you told me all those things. I'm really, _really_ glad. Thank you for being so honest with me." The teen's face remained uncertain for another moment before finally relaxing slightly, and only once it had did Kate ease off on her own intensity.

She squeezed Alexis' hands with hers, touched that the girl had initiated the contact, initiated it and maintained it. "I wasn't reliving the shooting just now. I was realizing how absolutely unfair I've been to you_._"

Alexis shook her head again but remained silent.

"Whenever I think about you and that day together in my head, Alexis, whenever I imagine your memories and impressions, my mind just always stops at how you must have felt about your _dad_. About seeing him in danger like that. About what he'd gone through. About what he'd experienced, and what he was dealing with."

Kate sighed, hoping against hope that the girl believed her. "I truly never even _considered_ what you were feeling about _me_. But now, after what you said…to see something like that happen to someone you know – _anyone_ you know – to see them get hurt like that, and then _not_ have the chance to make sure they're okay afterwards…"

Kate's voice trailed off as she realized with horror that she didn't even know _when_ she'd seen Alexis again after that day. It had obviously been sometime after she and Castle had resumed their partnership, but when _exactly?_ And what had she said? Whatever it was, it hadn't been nearly meaningful enough, of that she was certain. It had probably consisted of nothing more than a friendly hello during a casual run-in here at the loft, a chance meeting while she was waiting on Castle for this, that, or the next thing.

A chance meeting.

_Jesus_.

The more she thought about it, the more sickened she felt. No wonder the girl had never attempted to pick up their relationship from where Kate had dropped it to the ground. No wonder she'd never called Kate again for advice, or help, or just to talk. No wonder she'd gone silent every time they'd run into each other at the morgue. No wonder she hadn't broken into spontaneous song and dance when she'd found out Kate and Castle were officially together. No freaking wonder.

"You're not 'anyone'."

Her eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement as she attempted to catch up with Alexis' train of thought. She'd gotten bogged down in her own again. _Focus, Beckett._

Alexis helped her out. "What you said before, about the shooting, about how I'd need to see anyone I knew after something like that happened. You're not 'anyone', Kate. You're more than that. A lot more."

Kate blinked away the tears which pricked the backs of her eyes as the teen kept speaking. "And yeah, I really _do_ wish I'd had the chance to see you afterwards. And that you _hadn't_ disappeared. On _both_ of us: Dad and me." Alexis' eyes dropped. "Because I missed you, too."

The quiet assertion rendered Kate speechless. Utterly speechless.

Alexis hurried on quickly, obviously wanting to get through this, to be done with it. "I _was_ angry. Really angry. But so much has happened since then. A _ton_. And I'm not angry about it anymore. Honestly, I'm not." Her fingers squeezed Kate's gently, just once. "But thank you. For realizing how tough it was. That means a lot." The girl's bright blue eyes studied her green ones across the counter, clearly wondering if she'd said enough.

It was so much more than enough.

"Alexis…" She had no idea where to even start. This girl – this young woman – was just…_remarkable_. That sounded good actually. Go with that. "You're remarkable." She tipped her chin to maintain their eye contact as Alexis ducked her head shyly. "No, I'm serious. You are."

Alexis looked back at her for a long moment before the corners of her lips quirked up suddenly. "Not really. Mostly I'm just hungry."

A startled laugh burst from Kate's lips, relief and amusement mingled equally with sheer affection. That right there had been pure _Castle_. Too much emotion flying around? Tension in desperate need of slicing? Well, that's what Castles do best. _Both_ Castles.

Kate smiled. "Yeah, that makes two of us." She leaned back, slipping her hand from Alexis' with one last press of her fingers. "Tell you what, why don't we nuke the food then watch a movie while we eat?" She raised her eyebrows wryly. "Because I think I'm all talked out."

Alexis grinned back at her. "Sounds good." She rose from her chair then paused, turning back to Kate with a serious face and a raised index finger. "But _only_ if the movie is 100% angst-free."

Kate chuckled. "Nothing but fluff. Got it."

She grabbed her still-heaping plate of lukewarm food and was already headed for the microwave when a sudden thought stopped her halfway. "Hey, Alexis, can I ask you one more question?"

"Sure," the teen invited, looking up from the mess of noodles she was currently transferring to her plate.

"Earlier, when I got here, you seemed…really happy."

Alexis tilted her head. "Yeah, I was." Her face acquired a slight frown. "Is that bad?"

Kate smiled, shaking her head. "No, of course not. I'm just wondering why. You haven't looked that pleased to see me in, well, in a while. What brought on the change?"

To Alexis' credit, she didn't even try to pretend that she hadn't understood what Kate was talking about. "You," she answered simply.

"What?"

"You," Alexis repeated. She stuck her chopsticks securely into the container of lo mein and set it down before continuing. "At some point last week, Dad asked you to come to the Hamptons with us for Memorial Day. And you said no." She leaned her hip against the counter. "At first I was worried. I thought maybe…" She hesitated, lowering her eyes.

"You thought I was pulling away," Kate supplied, encouraging the teen to continue.

"Yeah." Alexis took a deep breath. "But I was also kind of relieved, because it meant that I got five days alone with Dad." She looked back at Kate. "And then once we got there, I admitted that to him, and he told me that's exactly why you hadn't wanted to come along." She smiled. "That was really cool of you, Kate. Thanks."

She shook her head. "You don't have to thank me for that, Alexis."

Alexis pursed her lips in amusement. "Actually, even though you weren't there, your name came up pretty regularly." She fought a grin. "It was like Dad couldn't go ten minutes without bringing you into the conversation."

_Oh._

"Uh, sorry," Kate mumbled, delighted to learn that he'd been thinking of her but guilty to hear that it had interfered with their father/daughter getaway.

"No, don't be," Alexis said quickly. "I'm not. He's happy. He's so happy to be with you." The teen smiled warmly at her. "I've always known he would be. I just wasn't so sure about _you_."

Kate stayed silent, looked at Alexis with something akin to apprehension as the teen considered her next words carefully.

"Dad's an open book. When he's feeling something, anything, it's written across every inch of him, plain as day for the whole world to see." She studied Kate. "You're different. You're an enigma a lot of the time. You're very challenging to read."

Kate's heart twinged slightly at the assessment, but she knew it was true.

"Over the past few weeks," Alexis continued, "I've seen my dad dive into this with his whole heart, with everything he has to offer." She paused, made sure that Kate was really looking at her. "He's in, Kate. You know that, right?"

She nodded wordlessly. She did. She absolutely did.

"But with you, I just wasn't certain. You always seemed so…reserved, so cautious, so…I don't know. Guarded maybe? And that really scared me. Because as happy as you make my dad, I just wasn't convinced that _he_ made _you_ happy. And he _deserves_ to make someone happy."

Kate closed her eyes. Wow.

Technically speaking, that was a _very_ accurate description of the last three weeks. But it couldn't have been more wrong.

Alexis was correct: she'd been walking on eggshells. But it wasn't because she _didn't_ want to be here; it was because she _did_. She wanted it to a highly astonishing, _dangerous_ degree. Her telling moment in the entryway came back to her: _the Castles were definitely home, and now, so was she._

It was true. She already felt like she belonged here. But that was absolutely crazy, because it _wasn't_ her home. It wasn't. And it had only been _three _weeks. Not nearly enough time, not to feel what she was feeling. If it had been just Castle, then maybe…but it wasn't. Alexis lived here, too. And Martha was a regular presence as well. And Kate just needed to keep herself in check, because this was_ their_ home, not hers.

So she'd made it a point to remain removed, detached, not from Castle himself, but from the Castle family dynamic. She'd held herself back when Alexis or Martha were around, created an intentional distance, because the last thing she wanted was for them to feel like she was overstepping, or attempting to force herself into the natural flow of things. She wanted them to know how important this was to her, how careful she was willing to be.

And now, thanks to her caution, she was listening to Alexis admit that she wasn't sure whether or not Kate was even truly _happy_ here. When she'd never been happier in her _life_.

The irony was priceless, and she could just envision Castle's face beaming delightedly at the ridiculousness of the situation, the humor of it all flooding his features with gleeful mirth. _Epic fail, Beckett. _Epic_ fail._

"He _does_ make me happy, Alexis," she finally said, unable to stop a warm smile from taking over her lips as she thought about the amazing man in question. "He really, really does."

Alexis nodded. "Yeah, I get that now."

"So what convinced you?" Kate asked, tilting her head.

"Oh, I don't know…" Alexis' mischievous smile was an exact replica of her father's. "The past five days of listening to Dad's cell phone going _ballistic_ with texts, emails, and phone calls from _you_ might have had something to do with it…"

Kate turned casually back towards the microwave, her voice completely nonchalant. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, of course not." Alexis answered, amusement dancing across her features as she picked up the container of noodles and retrieved her chopsticks. "But, Kate? Maybe next time you should just come with us." She threw a teasing look over her shoulder. "You know, for safety's sake. Dad already has enough issues with his cell phone. He doesn't need you blowing it up."

Kate bit her lip, unsuccessfully attempting to disguise her ridiculously wide grin as she nodded her head thoughtfully. "Yeah, that _would_ be a shame. Let's try to keep those fire-related incidents to a minimum, shall we?"

* * *

**There's a line somewhere within this monstrosity about Kate being bogged down by her own thoughts, which is exactly how I felt while writing this chapter. It's very, very possible that I tried to chuck in waaay too much for a single conversation. So if you're feeling bamboozled by it all, or just generally disagree with the tone/flow/characterization I went for here, please feel free to chastise me. Gently of course. I'm breakable.  
**

**Also, on a totally random note, the 'neighbors setting something on fire' thing actually happened to me a few years back. My neighbors threw a Fourth of July party and we decided to channel our inner Castle with some illegal fireworks in the field across the street. And we _totally_ set the mother ablaze. Like, full-on mini inferno. Luckily, there was a rather large fire extinguisher to hand, and by the time the cops showed up, we were all back to our side of the street, looking on with dutiful puzzlement and incredulity at the still-smoking remnants of our own pyrotechnics. The next year, I went to the same house with the same people for the same party. And I brought an extra fire extinguisher along. Just in case.**

**Always love hearing your thoughts, guys, so please don't hesitate to share them with that handy review box below! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**This idea has been bouncing around in my head for awhile, and I just had to get it out. I was originally going to post it as a one-shot, but on second consideration, it felt like it fit the flow of this story nicely, and it matches the current Chapter 6 lyrics as well. So I'm going with it. Hope you guys agree with my assessment. Oh, also, I wanted to say a huge thank you to all of the anonymous reviewers of this fic, especially Nat - who reviews loyally after each chapter - and Lianna, who was so kind in her praise after my last post. I can't write any of you Anons back directly, but please know your words are appreciated. :)**

* * *

_We won't stop till it's over,  
Won't stop to surrender…_

* * *

"Are you_ sure_ about this, Kate?"

So much lay behind that simple sentence, layer upon layer upon layer. She could read the subtle nuances when he spoke, could recognize the miniscule hints and minute indicators infusing the lilting tone of his voice and the low timbre of his words. If the four years of working together hadn't been enough for her to read the depths of him, then the four weeks of _being_ together definitely were. She knew exactly what he was thinking, knew exactly what he was feeling, knew exactly where his mind was at.

She knew.

He was convinced that she couldn't do this. He was sure that she'd fail. And he was waiting for her to acknowledge it, hoping desperately that she would. He was absolutely certain that she was going to suffer. That she was going to crack. That she was going to be wholly and utterly vanquished.

And he was _giddy_ at the prospect.

She rolled her eyes. "Please."

He tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow, smug confidence radiating from him in undulating waves. She could practically feel them as they flowed outwards, washing over her body and breaking against her skin in a crashing flood of self-assured superiority. He was quivering with excitement, completely unable to contain the sheer delight and anticipation he so obviously felt at the idea of _thoroughly_ trouncing her.

"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you." He shrugged, going for an expression of pity but not quite managing it around his haughty smile. "Or offer you a _very _chivalrous chance to escape the razor-sharp jaws of your own impending doom."

"Oh, spare me the poetics, Castle," she scoffed. "The truth is, you're in over your head, and you know it." Her eyes narrowed. "And you. Are going. _Down_."

His grin widened, and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Maybe after."

_Oh good lord._

She didn't bother answering, not immediately. Instead, her eyes speared his, sharp and penetrating, then broke away abruptly, abandoning his face to trail down his body in a torturous crawl, her icy gaze raking appraisingly over every inch of him, sizing him up, assessing. She allowed just a hint of something more to gradually transform her features as she progressed, her incisive stare heating slowly from coldly clinical to burningly provocative in a tantalizing simmer, her teeth now shamelessly ravishing the lush curve of her bottom lip, worrying it in that way she knew drove him crazy.

His reaction was instantaneous: smile faltering, breath hitching, every muscle in his body snapping to attention.

She fought down the laughter bubbling in her chest. It was probably wrong how much unadulterated _pleasure_ she took in her ability to play him like a fiddle. Yet pleasure is exactly how she'd describe it. A nefarious smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

"Fine, new plan: I'll beat the pants off you…then you can _rip_ the pants off me."

He swallowed audibly at her sinfully seductive tone, his eyes widening as she licked her lips, utterly mesmerized by the slick slide of her tongue. He was coming undone at the seams, wholly incapable of tearing his gaze away, thoroughly intoxicated by nothing more than the simple sight of her before him: fully strapped and ready, body loose and primed, her entire demeanor oozing equal parts confidence, control, and devastating sexiness. His mouth went dry as he struggled in vain to formulate some sort of semi-coherent thought through the surge of lust assaulting his senses. Yeah, not so much right now with the coherency…

"What's wrong, _Rick_?" she asked, her voice curling lazily around his ear, dripping with smug awareness at the havoc she was wreaking. "Cat got your tongue?" She smirked knowingly. "Or maybe…_kitten_?"

And just like that, he was back. _Waaay over the line, Beckett._

She might be extraordinary, she might be incredibly tough and independent, she might be the hottest thing he'd ever had in his loft – or his bed – and she might be the love of his life, but there was no way in_ hell _she was taking him down _now_. Not a chance. Not after a comment like _that_. No. Way.

He widened his stance, flexed his fingers, and narrowed his eyes. "I'm gonna whip. Your. _Ass._"

She tilted her head, wicked amusement dancing across her features. "Maybe after."

"Wow." He gaped at her for a split second before his face lit with a sudden grin and waggling eyebrows, every ounce of competitiveness disappearing in an instant. "In honor of _that_ statement, I propose we start with 'Hurts So Good'."

She fought a grin. "Really, Castle? Mellencamp?"

"What's wrong with Mellencamp?" he demanded, tone indignant. "I love that song!"

She shook her head, but finally unleashed an actual smile. "Nope. Not a chance. When I agreed to this, it was under the condition that _I _got to pick first."

"Fine," he huffed, lips pursed in an adorable pout. "But you better choose something good." He hesitated for a long moment then handed the remote over with a mournful sigh.

She rolled her eyes again at his theatrics and turned towards the television screen in his office. The Guitar Hero song menu greeted her, and she began to scroll, gaze flicking from title to title, searching out a good opening tune. It didn't take long.

She stopped immediately when she saw it. There. Perfect.

She glanced at Castle, grinning slightly at the way his eyes widened then crinkled at the corners in a massive smile. He swung his head around to beam at her. She attempted to play it cool, arching her eyebrow haughtily. "Good enough for ya, Castle?"

"Better than good," he responded immediately. His smile grew, if that was even possible. "It's perfect."

She gave up and smiled back, and then they just stared at each other for what felt like forever, and wow, yeah, this was a moment. How ridiculously sappy that they were having a _moment_ over her choice of Guitar Hero music. But…they totally were. And she loved moments. With him. Moments with him. She loved…_him_. And she still hadn't told him. And why was that again? She bit her lip, cheeks flushing slightly, and his blues eyes twinkled at her, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

And then he dropped his gaze to the guitar strap at his hip, making one final adjustment, and the moment was past.

She took a deep breath, unsure whether she was grateful or frustrated that he hadn't demanded more from her just then, hadn't pushed her to say it instead of letting the song speak for her. But it was Castle. And he wouldn't push, she knew that. She would, though. She'd push herself. Soon. But not right now. Because right now, she really had to _soundly_ kick his ass.

She turned away from him, determination infusing her features as she focused her attention on the screen.

The opening notes of Kiss's 'Love Gun' blasted from the speakers and her fingers began dancing gracefully over her guitar, hitting each of the notes perfectly. She caught a startled look from Castle out of the corner of her eye and smirked, not bothering to meet his gaze, wholly focused on the chord progression. _That's right, kitten. Game on._

And then she surprised him again when she suddenly began to sing, smoothly merging her steady, confident croon with Paul Stanley's bold, high-pitched rasp.

"_I really love you, baby. I know what you've got. Let's get together, we can…" _– Castle swallowed thickly as she darted him a smoldering look, playfulness sparking in the dark green depths of her eyes – _"get hot."_

He stared at her, shocked, his fingers fumbling over the keys on his own guitar, forgetting entirely that he was supposed to actually be _playing_ the music, his mouth still ajar at the lyrics which had just tripped so effortlessly – even jauntily – from her tongue.

She raised her eyebrows at him, smirking smugly as her fingers continued to hammer out her section of the song. Oh, she knew _exactly_ what she was doing to him. He shook his head. Okay then, if she was intent on killing him, then he was damn well taking her along for the ride. He pulled his attention back to the screen, realigning his fingers and regaining the tempo of his chords before launching into the next set of lyrics himself.

"_No more tomorrow, baby. Time is today. Girl, I can make you feel…"_ – he whipped his head towards her, catching the surprised expression on her face before throwing her a seductive grin – _"okay."_

He wasn't sure whether it was his willingness to sing which had astounded her or just the fact that he could sing well, but regardless of the why and wherefore, he was inordinately pleased at the look adorning her face, equal parts incredulous and impressed.

She didn't say a word, though, just dove into the next line. _"No place for hidin', baby..."_

He jumped in ahead of her. _"No place to run."_

They sang the next line together, neither willing to cede the lead. _"You pulled the trigger of my_…" – fingers sped over guitars, blurring in the fast-paced musical interlude – _"love gun!"_

They stayed silent throughout the chorus, let the music wash over them, focused intently on the complicated chords, but she took a moment to toss him another smile before she began singing the next verse, and his heart jumped in his chest at the depth of it.

"_You can't forget me, baby – don't try to lie."_ A bomb case, an interrogation room confession, a shallow blonde, a red car, a man trying to let go and failing completely…

His turn.

_"You'll never leave me, mama – so don't try."_ A murder board, a fight, a declaration, a rejection, a woman issuing a harsh goodbye and then a soaking wet hello…

Her voice returned, strong, sure, determined. _"I'll be a gambler, baby – lay down the bet."_

He smiled wide. _"We get together, mama…" _– he turned to her with a high arch of his eyebrows, hands flaring across his guitar in perfect rhythm – _"you'll sweat."_

She grinned, all lips and teeth and the tip of her tongue peeking out between. _"No place for hidin', baby…"_

"_No place to run!"_ He clenched his eyes closed dramatically, belting out the words, fingers slamming forcefully on his strum bar.

And then together: _"You pulled the trigger of my…"_ – she rolled her eyes and laughed as he dipped backwards at the waist and thrust his guitar skyward for the interval – _"love gun!"_

The chorus rolled on steadily, pulling them along in its wake, both of them still singing the repeated _love guns_ over and over and over. They reached the bridge and Castle went crazy, spinning and jumping and attempting a kick which basically ended in a total fall, although he managed to pull it out at the last minute, teetering comically on his toes before darting a surreptitious glance in her direction, as if hoping she hadn't noticed. Yeah right.

She shook her head at his antics, but couldn't quite wipe the happiness from her features as the song started winding down, eventually ending in a final, complicated note pattern and swiftly fading tones. She released her guitar and threaded her fingers behind her head before turning to look at him. He followed suit, his eyes twinkling as they locked with hers. They were both breathing heavily, silly grins plastered across their faces.

Talk about a freakin' moment.

"Hey," he exclaimed, eyes bright as he straightened up suddenly, holding her gaze. "How awesome is it that we actually _met_ Gene Simmons? That song is like a gazillion times better now!"

She laughed, eying him playfully and tilting her head. "Yeah, and I think you really gave him a run for his money, Castle. I didn't know you could sing like that."

"What?" he asked with a teasing smile. "You didn't think you were the only one around here who had a bona fide set of pipes, did you?" He puffed out his chest. "When are you gonna learn that I excel at _everything_, Beckett?"

She rolled her eyes and dropped her hands back to her guitar. "I'll make a note of it."

"Please do." He clapped his hands together then wrung them gleefully. "And now it's _my _turn to pick a song!" He tenting his index fingers and tapped them against his chin in a somewhat maniacal fashion. "Let's see, let's see, what'll it be…?"

She adjusted her guitar and folded her arms. "Weren't you all gung-ho for some Mellencamp just a few minutes ago?"

"Ah, yes! I was. But now…" His voice trailed off momentarily and his eyes got all dreamy and unfocused. "There are just so many options, you know? 'Hurts So Good' is a classic, but there's also '_Lust_ for Life', '_Burnin'_ for You', 'Pour Some_ Sugar_ On Me', 'Wanna _Get_ Wit Chu'…" He risked a glance at her, face mischievous, obviously fighting a grin as he continued rattling off suggestive song titles.

She sighed inwardly. _Oh geez._ This was going to take forever.

_'Let's Get It On', 'Everybody Wants You', 'Sex On Fire', 'Rub You The Right Way', 'Like A Virgin', 'All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You', 'I Want Your Sex', 'Damned If I Do Ya (Damned If I Don't)', 'Pillow Talk', 'Sexual Healing', 'Slow Hand', 'Tonight's The Night', 'I Want To Sex You Up', 'Kiss You All Over', 'Guilty Pleasures'…_

Oh come _on_, Castle," she interrupted, cutting him off just after he'd added Aerosmith's 'Love In An Elevator' to the possibilities. "You're not even _looking_ at the titles. Half of those songs probably aren't even on here." She scowled at him and gestured at the remote on his desk. "At least scroll through the list while you're being annoying."

He pursed his lips and shot her a disdainful look. "Okay, Miss Impatient, just for that…" He grabbed the remote and began clicking through the options in a very purposeful way before settling on one with a triumphant smirk. He turned to face her. "Satisfied?"

She looked at the screen and groaned. ZZ Top's 'Smart-Dressed Man.' _Of course._

She turned away with a sardonic sniff. "Fine. But I'm not singing."

She could hear the barely-contained laughter in his voice, hated him just a little bit for his palpable amusement. "That's okay. I've got this one _more_ than covered."

* * *

**Every time I play 'Love Gun' on Guitar Hero, I think of Castle and Beckett. I couldn't NOT choose that song. What do you think - good or bad fit? I've got some ideas on how to continue this scene, get a bit more play from it (pun totally intended), but I'm not sure if you guys would be interested in further Guitar Hero shenanigans. Yes? Maybe? Absolutely not? If you'd like me to continue with this scene, just let me know. If you'd rather move on to Kate's next 'navigation of now', let me know that, too.**

**Oh, and just an FYI: I'm deep in summer school right now, and I have like zero time to write. Which is why this update took so damn long. And future updates may be few and far between as well, at least over the next three weeks. But don't worry, I'm not abandoning the story. I know exactly where I'm going with it, and I anticipate a total of 10-12 chapters, which means we've got 4-6 to go. So I hope you all stick with me through the next little while, and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! :)**


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